Charlie Freak
by CHOOSELIFE
Summary: Drake struggles to survive staying at his abusive father's house over the summer. His coping mechanism: drugs. As he fights to keep his addiction secret, he's forced to study with his new tutor, Mindy. Can they put their differences aside so that he can pass the retake exam? Can they actually be friends, or more than that? What happens when Mindy starts dabbling in drugs, too?
1. The Problems

Audrey raced down the staircase and hurried into the kitchen when she heard the front door close. "Is he here yet?

Her hair was nice and neat. Her make-up would suggest that she was going out to a luxurious restaurant rather than the run-down airport that she was actually scheduled to be arriving at soon. She wore a light blue dress that complimented her hips and showed a tad bit too much in Josh's opinion. She swore she was dressed up to look good for the many photos they were going to inevitably take at her sister's lake house. However, her sons knew the true reason. Her ex-husband Martin was coming over to pick Drake up. He couldn't attend the family's summer vacation because he'd failed his senior year. Therefore, he had to stay at his father's house so that he'd have easy access to his tutor every week day. Audrey didn't see her ex often, but when she did, she liked to rub in his face what he was missing out on. She wanted him to know that she was successful and well and beautiful and happy without him.

"Not yet," Josh said, sitting across from Megan at the kitchen table.

Audrey anxiously looked at her watch. "Where is he? We're gonna miss our plane? He hasn't changed a bit."

Megan was hurt by the snarky remarks she often heard her mother and father say about each other. It confused her how two people who used to be in love could ever be filled with so much hatred towards the other.

Audrey saw that her comment had hit a nerve inside of Megan, so she brushed the subject off. "Where's Walter?"

"He was putting the last of the bags in Grammy's car. I think we're all set."

"I can't believe you guys are actually going without me," Drake exclaimed. "That's not fair!"

Audrey stood in front of her oldest son. "Honey, you know that I'd love for you to come. But if you don't pass this next test after the summer's up, you're gonna have to repeat the twelfth grade."

Drake rolled his eyes.

She gently rubbed his bicep. "Maybe this time around, you'll try a little harder? Hmm?"

He groaned. "Couldn't I have stayed with anyone else?"

"I know you and your dad aren't the best of friends, but you're gonna be with him for two months. This is some real bonding time for you two. Couldn't you just try to get along with him?"

"Mom, you can't even stand to be in the same room with him. Why should I have to?"

"Because he's your father. Now come on. Go grab your things from upstairs. He should be here any minute."

Drake walked past her, rolling his eyes yet again. He hated going to his dad's house, and he just plain out hated his dad. The man didn't take care of him, and he hardly knew that the boy was there until he was drunk off of his ass and his strong fist got a little itchy for some action. Two months of THAT was gonna be hell. As Drake trudged up the steps, he heard the phone ring.

"It's Martin," came Audrey's distant voice, then, "Where the hell are you?! You're two hours late! You forgot?! How the hell do you forget to pick up your own son?! Typical!"

Typical is right. Audrey never hesitated to remind Martin just how much of a piece of shit he is, and he never failed to return the favor. If he was that shitty of a person, why was Drake and Megan forced to go over there all the time? Well, Megan volunteered. Martin treated her like a queen. She was Daddy's little angel. Where she went, Drake would follow. Her harsh words and taunts and pranks were nothing compared to the beatings his father would give him, and Martin wouldn't dare to lay a hand on Drake when his daughter was around. The worst times were when Megan was asleep or in the shower. Drake had no protection then, and his father would be coming for him with a vengence.

"Drake opened the door to his room and grabbed his bags and his guitar case, then went downstairs, rejoining his mom and siblings.

"Your father's running a little late. We can't miss this flight. You think you'll be okay on your own for a little while. He should get here soon."

"I'll be fine, Mom."

"You sure?"

"Of course. I can take care of myself."

Audrey sighed with relief, then kissed him on the cheek. "Great. We have to get going. Don't hesitate to call. And please study. And brush your teeth. And don't stay out too late. And try to get along-"

"Mom! Okay! Go!"

She smiled, then gave him another kiss. "I love you."

"Love you."

"Come on, kids. Let's get in the car."

When they were all gone and the door was closed, Drake sighed. Alone. It felt great, and he was going to enjoy every last second that he could squeeze out of it before his father got here and ruined it.

* * *

><p>Drake sat on the couch, gently stroking the chords on his guitar. He hummed along because he couldn't quite remember the words since he'd just recently written the song. The reason for his bad memory was located on the coffee table in front of him: his pipe and a small bag of weed. If he was going to stay with his father, he definitely needed some sort of help getting through the boredom and beatings. Help, meet Drake. Drake, meet help.<p>

The boy rested the instrument on his lap, then picked up the pipe, put one end to his lips, flickered the lighter over the bowl of marijuana, and inhaled. The smoke tickled his throat and left a familiar taste in his mouth. Part of him wanted to go downstairs and devour some popcorn...and maybe some chocolate syrup. However, the more dominant part of him was too lazy and tired to move that much. Drake set the pipe down after taking one more hit, then picked up his guitar again. He was silent since he was holding in his breath. Instead, he was talking to himself in his mind. He pondered the idea of how guitars made sound and how anything made sound at all and what exactly sound looks like. Is sounds a "he?" Is "he" attractive? "He" sounds attractive. Is "he" single? And then Drake forgot who the "he" was that he was referring to. Was he just having dirty thoughts about a guy?

He let go of his breath and smoke rose into the air, then dissipated. He relaxed his muscles, and started plucking the notes to a Beatles song having completely forgotten that he was in the middle of another song.

"You ready to go?"

Drake jumped to his feet and turned around with tensed muscles. His high was suddenly gone. Just like that. He tried to block his father's view of the coffee table as much as possible. "Shit! Dad! Can't you knock?!"

"Can't you get your ass in the truck."

"I'm coming. Let me just put my guitar in the case."

"Hurry up. I'm missing the game." And with that, Martin was gone.

Drake sighed with relief, then turned and looked down at the table, cursing himself for not hiding his weed sooner. He quickly put the bag into his back pocket, then hid the pipe in his guitar case. After that he turned off the light and went downstairs. Of course his father didn't try to grab a single one of his bags. Drake reached down to pick them up, but was shoved slightly to the side by his father, who'd just walked out of the kitchen as he finished up the last bite of his sandwich. The boy managed to steady his feet and stay standing.

"You think I didn't know what that smell was? Huh?!" Drake was shoved against the wall. "You think I was born yesterday?!"

"You know, I kinda just thought you weren't even gonna show up, so what the fuck, right?" Drake tried not to let any fear show.

"Give me the weed. Give it to me!"

"There isn't anymore."

"Bullshit!" He pushed the boy's shoulder. "You sure as hell don't want me to find it myself, do you? Because you know I will."

Drake glared up at him. He wouldn't give in to him. He wasn't going to stand for his dad treating him like this. No matter what beatings his father gave him, he couldn't get himself to satisfy his dad. Most of the time.

Martin visciously stuck his hand inside one of the boy's jeans pockets, then the other. When he found that those came up with no results, he pushed himself against Drake to pin him against the wall, then he wrapped his arms around him and stuck his hands into his back pockets. Drake felt uncomfortable with his father's body pushed against his own and Martin's hands on his ass.

"Get off of me!" He was too weak to shove the man away, and the wall ceased him from moving backwards.

"Ah ha! What's this?" Martin held up the bag, forcing Drake to look at his findings.

Since the boy was so busy gazing at his lost possession, he didn't notice the back of his father's hand coming towards his face until it made contact with his skin.

"Now give me your pipe."

This time, Drake did as he was told. He reached down and opened his guitar case, then pulled out his pipe. The second it was in his father's hands, Martin hurled it at the wall, just missing the boy's head by a mere inch. Drake flinched at the sound of shattering glass, and his breathing quickened.

Martin grabbed Drake's shirt collar, then forced him onto his knees. He put his lips next to the young man's ear. "PICK IT UP!"

Drake kept his head hung and somewhat cowered under the towering man. If it had been anything else, Drake would talk back and ignore and disobey all he could. But he knew that Martin would threaten to tell his mom about this, and Audrey could NOT find out that he was smoking weed in the house. So he carefully picked up the larger pieces of glass and held them in his cupped palm. After that, he stood up and threw the shards into the kitchen trash can.

"Get your shit and get your ass in the car." Martin shoved him into the front entrance again. "Piece of shit. Made me miss the first inning."

* * *

><p>Mindy opened the front door and visibly cringed. "Took you long enough. Looks like you're only two and a half hours late."<p>

"That's the difference between us. I actually have better things to do with my life," Drake retorted.

"Better than studying for the exam you have to retake in order to graduate high school? Gee, tell me all about them."

"I can't believe Ms. Hayfer paired me up with YOU."

"Likewise."

Drake didn't know exactly what that word meant, but he knew it was an insult. "Look, I have band practice in two hours, so we need to be done in one."

"Don't you wanna give youself time to at least learn something? I mean, can YOU actually absorb anything in an hour?"

"Are you gonna let me in or what?"

Mindy opened the door, closed it behind him, then led him into the dining room, where she already had a text book, paper, pencils, and a calculator waiting. She pulled out her chair, then took a seat. "Josh said they were going to your aunt's lakehouse for two months. It must suck that you have to miss out on that. He said he almost missed out on it, too, because your dad completely forgot about you yesterday. I would've thought that any dad who didn't have complete custody of his son would jump at the chance of getting to spend time with him. Wouldn't you?"

Drake hated that Mindy and Josh were together becase Josh told her everything, giving her A LOT of insult power over Drake that she shouldn't have. "Or maybe he was just late because the batteries in his alarm clock died and he overslept."

"You couldn't even think of an insult to add to that. The better one won."

"Or maybe I'm just being mature and trying to study. Am I wasting my time here?"

"Yes, you're wasting your time whether you study or not because it's not like you'll actually learn anything."

And the next forty minutes went on similarly to this, with Mindy making snarky remarks about how long it took Drake to come up with an answer, which was wrong most of the time. Drake cut his time short and grabbed his backpack. Mindy followed him to the door, taunting him about how she was right and how she'd known that he'd give up before his full time was up. Drake almost dared to think that he would've rather spent that time at home with his father, but it felt good to get out of the house and stretch his legs. As he walked down the street, instead of going towards his bandmate's house, he found himself heading towards his favorite drug dealer: Walmart. That's where he got his favorite drug: a cold, cough, and congestion medicine for high blood pressure that's sometimes referred to as Triple C's. His absolute favorite weakness. After that disastrous almost hour, he needed a mood-booster.


	2. Come Together

Drake pushed himself off of the bed and slid his cell phone inside of his pocket when he heard a knock at the front door. He exited his room, dreading seeing Mindy and going through another hour of being talked down to and belittled. As he headed towards the door, he glanced at the living room to his left. Sitting on the coffee table were five bright blue cans of Bud Light. He quickly headed over there and picked them up, holding them against his chest. He didn't want Mindy to know that his father was an alcoholic. He really didn't even want to study here in the first place. He was honestly ashamed of who his father was and where he lived. But when he'd started to leave the house and head over to his tutor's place, Mindy had texted him and said that they wouldn't be able to study at her house.

Drake inwardly groaned when he entered the kitchen and saw more beer cans. He dropped the load that he already had into the trash can, then picked up the ones that were on the kitchen table and carried them to the garbage. He tossed them all inside except one, which hadn't quite been finished. Drake loved the taste of beer. It reminded him of sitting barefoot on the lawn at a Bob Dylan concert whilst drinking, smoking weed, and watching the sunset with a ton of cute hippie girls who were dancing and twirling freely in their summer dresses and flower headbands. The young man gulped down the last few sips of the half-empty beer before throwing it away. He cringed as he swallowed the warm liquid. Correction: Drake loved the taste of _cold_ beer.

There was another knock at the door, this one louder, expressing Mindy's agrivation.

Drake closed the lid on the trash can so that Mindy couldn't see inside, then he hurried towards the knocking. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" He couldn't keep his own irritation out of his voice. _God, a whole hour with the devil. Kill me._

He opened the door to see his least favorite person in the world. Mindy stood in front of him, wearing a yellow, button-up, collared shirt with green and pink flowers on it. She had on a green skirt, and a pink headband to match.

"Are you gonna let me in, or do you wanna study right here?" Mindy spat. She didn't want to be assigned to Drake just as much as he didn't want to be assigned to her, but she couldn't switch, and she couldn't quit on him. She wanted the extra credit, and it'd look good on college applications.

Drake held the door open wider, but he didn't say anything. She stepped inside, then wrickled her nose and looked around with dissatisfaction, but she said nothing. Drake saw the expression on her face and realized that the house probably had a permanent stench of alcohol and cigarettes. He'd been so used to the strong odor that he hadn't thought about spraying some sort of air freshener. Maybe she wouldn't make any assumptions.

"Let's just get this over with," she said.

"Fine with me." Drake closed the door, then led her to the kitchen table.

The two took a seat, then remained in a short, awkward silence.

"So..." Drake said. He waited for a moment, wondering if she would catch on. When she said nothing, he asked, "Where's the math book?"

"I forgot to bring it," she admitted hesitantly.

"So you came over here to tutor me in math...without a math book?"

"You're lucky I came at all. None of the other tutors wanted you, and Ms. Hayfer thought that, if I couldn't teach you anything, no one would be able to."

"Whatever," Drake said, but he knew that she wasn't lying. So what if he was the slowest in his class (and probably his whole grade) to understand things? If he were to ask questions and participate in class, he'd humiliate himself, and everyone would tease him. So instead, he shrugged it off as if he didn't care. And therefore, he was cool. "All I'm saying is the whole reason you came over here was to tutor me in math, yet you forgot the book. None of this would've happened if I came over to your house again like we planned."

"What? Is there some reason you didn't want me to come over to your house?" Mindy looked at him with superiority, knowing that he was ashamed of where his father lived.

"No," Drake said quietly. "Forget it. I'll go look for my book." And with that, he got up from the table and went into his room, searching through his things. "I hate her fucking guts," he whispered to himself. "I swear I fucking hate her."

Mindy glanced at the clock on the stove. She'd only been here for four minutes. First, the news she'd learned at home, and now this. Today was officially the worst day ever. No, this summer was probably just altogether going to be the worst time of her life.

Mindy looked to her left when someone entered the room, but it wasn't Drake. "Oh, hi. You're Drake's father?"

"I am. And you must be a friend of his."

"Hardly," she said. "I'm his tutor. Mindy. Mindy Crenshaw."

"Oh, good! Nice to meet you, Mindy. I'm Mr. Parker."

She held out his hand for him to shake. He did the same, struggling slightly through his drunken state to find her hand.

"Nice to meet you, too, sir."

"So is he getting some sort of extra credit for this or something? Why does he need a tutor in the summer?"

"Are you kidding?" Mindy asked. "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"He failed. I have to tutor him throughout the summer, and he has to take another test to determine whether he graduates or has to repeat the twelfth grade."

"Well, it's very kind of you to volunteer to help my son in school. I know that he can be a handful."

"Oh, yeah," Mindy agreed. "You've got that right," she said jokingly. She noticed how his words slurred slightly, and his breath reeked of alcohol.

"It's just that, between you and me, he's not the brightest crayon in the box. My daughter Megan - she's brilliant. But Drake's a little slow when it comes to learning. I'm surprised he made it this far. He's barely passed any grade since kindergarten. I mean, kindergarten, for Pete's sake!"

_Wow_, Mindy thought. _Even Drake's own father thinks he's just as stupid as I do_.

"He just doesn't understand as much as normal people do. He doesn't learn as easy. I doubt he'll even-"

"Dad!" Drake said with embarrassment.

Martin turned and looked behind him.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Chill out, Drake. I was just getting a drink. And I met your new tutor. You didn't tell me about having a tutor."

"It's just some stupid thing for school."

"During the summer?"

Drake noticed that his father's words were slurring greatly, and he didn't want him to keep talking in front of Mindy. "Look, there's a lot we have to cover. Can you give us some space?"

"Sure, sure."

Martin walked over to the refrigerator as Drake sat down at the table with his math book. It looked brand new, for it'd hardly been opened at all.

"What page?" He slid the book to Mindy, who noticed his rising anger.

Martin shut the refrigerator with his heel, revealing a six-pack of Bud Light. "You kids have fun now. I'll be in my room. And there better not be any hanky panky going on."

"Dad!" Drake's cheeks felt hot, and Mindy noticed that they were a bright shade of pink.

"I'm going. I'm going." And Mr. Parker disappeared out of sight.

Drake kept his head down, pretending to be interested in what page Mindy was turning the book to. There was no doubt that his dad had tried to humiliate him on purpose. What a fucking asshole! This is why Drake didn't want Mindy here in the first place. He didn't want his father to know that he'd failed his senior year. If his father would've walked in on them, Drake would've made up some lie. He was good at that. But Mindy had spilled the beans. Now Drake had a reason to hate her even more. He never wanted his dad finding out because he would've kicked his ass and yelled at him until he made the teen feel like a useless piece of shit. Great. Now Drake had something to look forward to.

"Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" Mindy said with irritation.

"Yes, I'm listening."

"Then what did I say?"

Drake had no idea what to say. He glanced at the page that they were on, but he had no idea what anything was called. It was all just math to him.

"Do you even care to learn anything? Or am I just wasting my time with you? I could just leave and let your dad tutor you, although I don't know how much good that'll do considering the state he's in. I'm sure it couldn't hurt, though. You need all the help you can get."

Drake was filled with rage. He wasn't exactly angry at Mindy. He was pissed off that his father drunkenly conversed with his enemy, then grabbed even more beer out of the refrigerator as if he didn't have enough. "Fuck you. You're such a bitch."

Mindy chuckled, then shook her head. "Perfect." She stood up, then started towards the front door.

Drake honestly couldn't care less. He was glad that she was leaving. He was glad that he'd never have to see her again. Until...

"Have fun repeating the twelfth grade. I'm sure Ms. Hayfer will love using you as an example for why your classmates next year should study." And then she was gone.

Oh, God. Another year with Ms. Hayfer? Another year in that prison? He might as well just drop out. If only his mom would let him. Next year would be hell. Ms. Hayfer would humiliate him every chance she got. She'd make him wish that he'd graduated. _God, this sucks!_

Drake stood and hurried out the front door, calling out just as the girl reached her Porche. God, it sure did stick out in this neighborhood.

"Mindy...wait."

"I have nothing to say to you." She opened the door.

Drake pushed it shut and kept his hand there to keep her from leaving. "Look-"

"Move."

"I know you hate me just as much as I hate you. But I need this to pass, and you need this so that colleges think that having you would actually be a benefit to them."

"_That's_ the apology you're going with?" Mindy shook her head. "Wow, you never cease to surprise me, Drake." She forced the driver's side door open and got inside. "You're pathetic."

Drake was offended. "Okay, you know what?"

Mindy looked at him, wanting him to say more. She loved when he gave her more reasons to hate him. Plus, she needed something to tell Ms. Hayfer so that she wouldn't look like she was being a baby about the whole situation.

Drake calmed himself down. He saw what she was trying to do. "Look, I-"

"Bye." Mindy tried to shut the door, but Drake grabbed it.

"Okay! I'm sorry!" It sickened him to say those words to her. Now he was right where she wanted him, begging for her help.

"You're sorry?" she said incredulously. "Need I remind you what you said to me? I'm a lady, and I expect to be treated like one. I'm doing you a favor. Your dad seemed pretty grateful that you were getting some help. Bet he'll be really disappointed when you tell him why I left."

Drake hated that his father had a halo over his head in Mindy's eyes. If only she saw what Mr. Parker would do to him behind closed doors. "You don't know anything about him."

"Okay. That's fine with me." She quickly shut the door before he could stop her, then she locked it.

"Mindy..."

She cranked the car, then looked at him. "It's just like you said. Neither of us wanna be here, and we really don't have to be."

"Mindy, wait. Just hear me out." He started to get even more nervous when she changed gears, putting the car in reverse. "I was wrong. It was wrong of me to say that to you. To call you that. I'm an asshole."

Mindy didn't look at him, but she kept her foot on the brake.

"What can I say? I'm sorry. I just... No one else will give me a chance. You're the only way I can even come close to passing this year. I..." He got quieter. "I need you."

Mindy said nothing, but she also didn't start backing the car up. That's a good sign, right?

"Just come back inside. We'll start over. I'll listen and I'll try not to get on your nerves. I can't repeat the twelfth grade. My mom will be so disappointed, and my dad... To say he'd be extremely pissed would be an understatement. He'll probably ground me for a year." Drake hated sounding so desperate, but he was. He _had_ to pass or his father would kill him. "Give me one more chance, and I swear if I piss you off, you can tell Ms. Hayfer that it was my fault. Please?"

Mindy sighed, but she put the car in park and uncranked it. Honestly, she didn't want to go home right now. Other than that, she would've left in a heartbeat. "Fine."

* * *

><p>"You see? And that would make your answer forty-one," Mindy said.<p>

"Um..."

"What?"

"Well, I mean, I don't know. Wouldn't the answer be fifty-three maybe?" Drake wasn't good at math at all, while Mindy was some sort of math genius, but he was almost certain that he was correct.

Mindy checked over her work, then said, "Yeah, you're right."

Drake looked at Mindy suspiciously. She was never wrong. Ever.

She noticed that he was staring at her. "I'm just a little distracted. That's all."

Drake looked at the clock. "Well, we have been studying for two and a half hours. Maybe we should both get some sleep. I can't possibly math anymore."

"Seems like you can't grammar either."

Still, Drake noticed that Mindy was hesitant to leave. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Why?"

"Because I can just tell. You've been in your own head since you got here. Is it really _that_ bad having to tutor me?"

"Yes," Mindy said. "It's horrible."

When she cracked a grin, Drake realized that she was joking.

"I've just got some personal things going on."

Disgust filled Drake's features.

"Not _that_," Mindy said, ruling out her period. She elaborated a bit. "It's just some family things."

"Oh."

"I mean, but it's nothing." She stood up and grabbed her purse off the back of her chair.

Drake followed. "Well, I know it's not really your scene. But there's a party tonight. Maybe it could help you get your mind off some things. I mean, if you wanna go."

"You know what?" Mindy couldn't believe she was saying this, but- "Yeah. I think I will."

"Cool. Let me go change first."

"This isn't just some pity invite or a 'thank you' invite, is it?"

"Well, what else would it be? Does it matter?"

Honestly, if it meant that Mindy didn't have to go home just yet, it didn't matter to her.

Drake smiled when he saw that she didn't care what kind of invite it was. "I mean, we don't even like each other. Remember?"

* * *

><p>"I don't know if I wanna do this anymore," Mindy said as Drake started to get out of her car.<p>

He sat back in the passenger seat. "What? Why?"

"Parties are really not my thing. This may be hard to believe, but other teenagers just don't like me."

"No," Drake said sarcastically. "You're kidding."

"You're a jerk."

"Look, just try it out. Relax. Let loose. Be...anyone but yourself. I mean, unless you'd rather go home."

With those words, Mindy remembered why she'd agreed to this in the first place. "No chance."

She got out of the car, then started walking with Drake up to the house. A few kids were hanging out by their cars, chatting and smoking. They weren't too early, but they weren't late either. Drake could tell by the lack of drunk people. This meant that there was still plenty more alcohol, but he wouldn't be that awkward first drunk person.

Once they stepped inside, Mindy was hit with the smell of alcohol. The music was loud, and teenagers were EVERYWHERE.

"Drake! Hey!"

Drake looked to his right and saw his bandmate Julio on the other side of the room. He started to squeeze his way through the crowd, but Mindy stopped him, yelling over the music.

"Where are you going?"

"Just to talk to some friends. Look, just walk around a little and maybe you'll find someone you know."

"You're just gonna invite to my first party, then ditch me? You know I'm not good at making friends."

Drake groaned. "Fine. Come on." He led her over to his bandmates.

"I was wondering if you were ever gonna show."

"Yeah, I had to help my dad with something first."

Apparently, Mindy realized, Drake hadn't told anyone that he'd failed and was in danger of having to repeat the twelfth grade.

"And who's this?" Paul said, looking at the girl standing next to him.

"Mindy," she said. "Mindy Crenshaw."

"Mindy Crenshaw? That rings an annoying little bell."

"No, it doesn't," Drake said, glaring at his friend, who stopped smiling.

Drake wasn't exactly sure why he'd invited Mindy. Maybe it was because Josh knew that she was his tutor, and he'd asked him to try to become friends with her over the summer. Maybe since everyone was disappointed in him for failing, he could at least make Josh proud by trying to do what he'd asked. But everyone would probably be laughing at him, and they'd tease him forever about his date to this party.

Stevie leaned forwards as if to keep this conversation between only him and Drake. "Why'd you bring her? She's a loser. I thought you hated her."

Drake looked at Mindy, who seemed hurt by Stevie's words. He felt really bad. On top of whatever family issues she was having, now she was being insulted right in front of her face. Drake wrapped his arm around her waist, then pulled her closer to him. "Mindy and I are lovers, and if you can't handle that, then you can go fuck yourself." He walked away, guiding her to the kitchen.

She pulled herself away from him. "_Never_ touch me again." She fixed her shirt. "I think I should just go."

"What? No. Come on. We're gonna have some fun, okay?" He grabbed two beers out of a cooler, then passed her one. He opened his. "Starting now, we're gonna have fun."

"Um, I don't drink."

"Come on. Mindy, you're at a party. Just stop being such a goody-goody Ms. Perfect."

Mindy thought about it. And she thought about it. And she thought about it. And she realized that Drake was right. She never really got to cut loose and have fun. Her parents would never approve of it. But now, she really didn't care what they thought. Now she could be normal and make some friends.

When Mindy opened her can of beer and took a sip, Drake smiled.

"Ugh! Gross!" She coughed. "How do you drink this stuff?!"

"I don't know. I like it. I mean, there's some Vodka and other super disgusting drinks if you wanna try those." Drake opened the refrigerator to see if the family that owned the house had anything else. Hidden in the back on the bottom shelf was a six-pack of Smernoffs. "Oh, wait. Try this." He grabbed one, then opened it for her with ease, using his forearm to pop the lid off (a trick he'd seen his father do).

"Are we allowed to have those?" Mindy asked.

Drake ignored her. "Here."

She sipped on it with caution this time. "It's better."

"Great." He grabbed both of the opened beers. "Come on."

Before they could leave the kitchen, a guy stepped in front of him, wearing a pink boa around his neck and high heels on his feet. "Oh, honey, no. Please, tell me you're about to change into your party clothes."

"Um, I didn't really have time to change."

"You poor thing! Come on! This is a fashion emergency! Rhinestone will fix you up." He grabbed her hand and guided her towards the staircase. "Follow me."

Mindy turned and looked back at Drake, who just shrugged, then drank some beer and turned around, searching the crowd for someone who peaked his interests.

* * *

><p>"You look sexy!" Rhinestone said when Mindy stepped out of the bathroom. "Those boys will be drooling all over you."<p>

"I don't know. It's not really me," Mindy said, looking in the mirror. She wore a blue dress that was barely long enough to be considered a dress at all. It complimented her hips well, but the top came down really low, and she felt like she was showing too much cleavage.

"But it looks amazing on you, girl! Trust me!"

"Who does this dress even belong to? Is this okay to be doing?"

"Don't worry. This is my boyfriend's house." Rhinestone whispered, "He's really into all the drag stuff. He won't mind, especially with such a desperate situation. Come on. Let me put some make-up on you, then we'll fix your hair and you'll be good to go."

Mindy sat down when he gestured towards the bed.

"Those boys downstairs will be fighting over you." Rhinestone started applying mascara to her eyelashes. "Look up."

"I actually have a boyfriend."

"That sweetie you were with? My God, he was gorgeous! If only he was gay, Gem and I would have so much fun with him."

"No, he's actually my boyfriend's brother. My boyfriend is on vacation over the summer, and Drake really just invited me here out of pity. We really hate each other."

"Then how'd you end up here together? Look at me." Rhinestone observed his work, then grabbed some foundation out of his bag.

"I was having a terrible night, and he felt bad, so he invited me to tag along. It's my first party."

"I can tell. That was nice of him to bring you."

"He just owed me a favor, so he felt like he had to. He's really a complete jerk. Like today, he called _me_ a bitch when _I_ was tutoring him so that he can pass summer school and graduate with the rest of his class."

"Most guys like him are douche bags. We're gonna make him regret saying that to you. He'll be on his knees begging for your attention when I'm done with you."

* * *

><p>Drake was sitting on the couch, making out with some red-headed girl that he'd just met. He was really relieved that he didn't have to spend his whole night with Mindy. It was perfect how this Rhinestone guy had just swooped in and taken her off his hands. Now he could actually have some real fun.<p>

The red-head was sitting on top of him, strattling him. Her fingers were intertwined in his hair. He was feeling her up, his hand inside of her shirt. God, she was hot. He wanted to toss her on her back and fuck her right here. But he wouldn't. If she didn't start dragging him upstairs in two minutes, he was going to lead her there, and he was pretty sure she wouldn't resist. He was proved correct when she started grinding her hips on him, arousing him even more.

"Introducing the new-" Rhinestone said, attracting Drake's eyes. "-and greatly improved Mindy Crenshaw!"

When Drake saw her his mouth dropped open, so the red-head moved her lips to his neck. "Holy shit. Mindy, you look hot!"

The red-head got off of him and looked at her competition, sizing her up. She placed her hand on Drake's knee to show that she had dibs, but the young man stood and left her unnoticed. Hurt, she stood and walked away.

Drake couldn't stop himself from looking at Mindy up and down. He had no idea that she could look like this. She never wore clothes that complimented her body well. Her long legs were so touchable, and her short dress left very little to the imagination. And he'd never realized that she actually had breasts.

"He totally wants to fuck you right now," Rhinestone said into her ear. He spoke louder so that Drake could hear over the music. "Naughty, naughty. Eyeing your brother's girl."

"What?" Drake forced his eyes away from her body and looked at Rhinestone. "No. It's just...different."

"Sure. Anyway, I'll catch up with you later, Mindy. Text me."

"Thanks, Rhinestone." She hugged him, then said her goodbyes. When she looked at Drake again, she saw that he was still staring.

He quickly moved his eyes up to hers. _Stop fucking staring!_

"It's not too revealing, is it?" Mindy said unsurely. "It just doesn't feel right."

"You look great. Josh would be all over you. I think. Does he even...?" Before Drake could finish asking how far the two have gotten, he realized that he didn't want to know, and she probably wouldn't tell him anyway. "You look great," he repeated.

Mindy was glad that he didn't finish the question. She didn't want to tell him that she was still a virgin.

Just then, Julio walked up, then held out a blunt. "Want some?"

"Hell yeah." Drake took it, then put it to his lips and inhaled.

Julio looked at Mindy. "Damn, girl! What happened to you? You look fine as hell!"

She smiled shyly. "Thanks."

Drake held the blunt out to her, his voice deep as he held in the smoke. "Here."

And she took it. She didn't even think about whether or not she should. She was a totally different person tonight, and she was going to live freely for the first time in her life. The second she inhaled, she started coughing so much that she thought she was going to die from lack of air. She was thankful that Drake and Julio didn't laugh. They were too busy talking about why Drake had missed their last band practice to notice.

* * *

><p>In the kitchen, a competitive game of beer pong was taking place. Drake and Julio verses Mindy and Rhinestone. A lot of the partiers had went home, and all of the beer was gone. The only thing left was vodka, so that's what they'd resorted to putting in the cups. Needless to say, they were all drunk as fuck. Mindy had never played this game before, so besides a lucky shot from her and three from Rhinestone, Drake and Julio were winning. The guys only had to toss the ball in two more cups, then they'd win and Mindy and Rhinestone would have to drink those two cups AND all that was left of Drake and Julio's cups, which was six as of right now. Mindy was so drunk that her aim was off severely, and she kept throwing the ball at the boys' more sensitive areas on accident. She was having so much fun, and she felt like she actually had friends. There was a crowd of people in the kitchen, and most of the people were rooting for the underdogs just because Mindy was hot and Rhinestone was funny and loveable and so, so gay.<p>

"Watch out. I got this." Rhinestone waved her arm as if to motion for Mindy to get out of the way. She stumbled forward, then tried to aim the ball at the opposite team's cups.

"It's not even your turn!" Julio said.

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it's not! You just went!"

"If I just went, meaning I just threw the ball at you, then why the fuck is it in my hand? Huh?"

"I don't remember. But you just went because you almost hit my eye. Remember?"

"That was, like, three turns ago, honey," Rhinestone argued.

"It really is the guys' turn," one of the crowd members said. "The ball bounced off his head and rolled back to you."

"Oh. Well, fuck it." Rhinestone tossed it anyway, and it landed in a cup.

"You cheat," Julio said.

"Dibs!" Drake called, picking up the cup. He fished the ball out, then swallowed the Vodka, which filled his body with a warmth that he loved.

Julio shrugged it off since he knew they'd win anyway, and he tossed a ball. Sure enough, it landed in one of the cups. Drake then quickly tossed it, aiming for the same cup, which would mean they'd have to drink two, but he missed. Since Mindy and Rhinestone were too drunk to find the ping pong balls, two of the onlookers passed it to them. While they did this, Drake grabbed one of his own team's cups and drank the Vodka. He never cared about winning or losing. He just wanted to drink, drink, drink. Again, Mindy and Rhinestone missed by a landslide. Julio tossed for his team first, and missed after hitting the rim of the cup. Drake tried to focus, then he tossed the ball and, holy fuck, he made it! They won!

After Mindy and Rhinestone finished drinking both of the teams leftover cups (with Drake helping them out by sneaking another one of his own), Drake led Mindy outside and helped her onto the hammock. He lit the blunt that Rhinestone had given him and took a puff. He laid down next to her and put the lighter in his pocket, accidentally touching her thigh since they were so close.

"Sorry." He let go of the breath that he was holding, filling the air in front of him with smoke, then he took anothing hit before holding it out for Mindy.

"I can't believe I actually had fun tonight," Mindy said, her words slurring.

"Good." Drake kept his eyes on the sky so he didn't look at the sexy, touchable body of the girl laying next to him. "I can't believe I had fun with _you_," he said, the weed making him honest.

But weed just had a way of making everything okay, because Mindy wasn't offended by his statement at all. "This was probably the best night I've had in a long time. I think. You know, I can't really remember right now."

Drake laughed, then took the offered blunt. "I can't believe I had fun with you."

"You said that already."

"Did I? Shit. I'm so fucking high."

"I can't even believe tonight happened. Before today, I never would've _ever_ smoked pot. Or even drank!"

"What happened today? With your family, I mean."

"My mom and dad are getting divorced. She's leaving him. She's moving all the way to Washington."

"Damn."

"So not only was I upset learning about the divorce. Apparently, my mom's moving two states away, which means getting to visit her isn't gonna be some easy one-hour car ride."

"That sucks a lot."

Mindy chuckled as if to say that his words were an extreme understatement. "Yeah. That suck _a lot_. Like, she knows I'm barely gonna get to see her anymore, but she's still gonna move forever away."

"Did she say why?"

"Probably. But I don't even remember. Hey, you've totally skipped me at least four times." Mindy took the blunt from him.

"No, I haven't! I've just been holding it the whole time. I forgot I had it."

"Finders keepers. Losers weepers."

"That doesn't even make since right now."

"Girls go to college to get more knowlege. Boys go to Jupiter because they're actually smart enough to figure out how to get to outer space."

"Girls are so complicated that way. Guys get right to the point."

"Girls are just designed that way. Designer shoes. Designer scarves. Designer bags under their eyes."

"That's so deep," Drake said.

Drake knew exactly where she was going with her sentences. And if his response didn't match her intended direction at all, she'd forget the point of her conversation and believe that he was on the right track. And even though their words were a bunch of nonsense, they understood exactly what it meant.

Drake continued to explain why her words seemed to really affect his soul. "Because being a model is probably so tiring. Constantly having to be spinning in circles and holding up cars. Tires definitely have the worst job. I feel so bad for tires. I'm so glad that I wasn't born a tire."

"I'm getting tired, too." Mindy yawned.

"I can't believe I had fun with you."

"I swear you've said that ten times already."

"You know, I faintly remember that actually. It's just crazy how these beautiful moments in our everyday lives can just come and go as if they'd never happened. And then you don't know if you've lost the best moments of your life, or the worst."

"That just blew my mind."

"I could use a blow job right now."

"Drake!"

"Sorry. I don't think I meant for that to come out. I can't remember. I'm so fucking high right now. Where'd you put the blunt?"

"It's in your hand, stupid."

"Oh, so it looks like we've resorted to name-calling again."

"I mean, this doesn't change anything, right? When we wake up tomorrow, we'll still hate each other, right? Everything goes back to normal."

"I can't remember. That's way too much for me to think about right now."

"Well, _maybe_ if you took your _eyes_ off of my _breasts_, you could focus better."

"Sorry." Drake looked at the stars again. "I so wanna fuck you right now."

"Shut up." Mindy laughed and slapped his arm playfully. "I'm pretty sure I'll remember this tomorrow, and I'm gonna tease you about it forever."

"No, don't. I'll probably be so embarrassed or something, I think."

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

"No. God, nothing. Not like that. You're perfect."

"I think you might have forgotten who I am."

"I think I've forgotten who I am, too." Drake looked at her. "I mean, for all I know, I could be the real Alice. I even had a rabbit as a pet before, and I picked up a caterpillar when I was little and everything. It all makes sense now. Holy shit, Mindy! I think I'm the real Alice!"

Mindy just laughed and laughed.

"I just totally tripped myself out for a second there," Drake said. "Let's pretend we don't remember that part in the morning."

"It's kinda beautiful. The way some memories are kept and others are just completely forgotten as if we locked them away and hid them from ourselves."

"I always hide things from myself when I'm high!"

Mindy sighed. "What a night."

"I know. I can't believe I-"

"-had fun with me," Mindy finished.

"Holy shit, you can read minds?! Please, tell me you haven't been reading my mind this whole time."

"You were having dirty thoughts about me, weren't you?"

"What," Drake said nervously. "No. Pfft. Of course not."

"You're a bad liar." Mindy reached over the hammock and picked up a bottle of Vodka.

"Where the fuck did that just come from?" Drake asked.

"Wonderland. The rabbit brought it to me. He would've given you some, but he was late for something and had to run. Or maybe hop."

"Wait, whoa. You're sharing."

"Your mama's sharing."

Drake honestly didn't mind not having anymore to drink. He knew his high would wear off quicker than her drunkenness, so he was the designated driver. After Mindy had finally let loose at the party and drank everything in sight, he'd made sure that he didn't get too drunk. Just a few drinks here and there. He mostly smoked weed, which he'd been on while driving before, so he felt fine.

"God, my mom sucks so bad."

Drake looked up at the stars, then closed his eyes. "When my parents divorced, I always wished that my dad moved far away so that I'd never have to see him again. Just a late birthday card with ten bucks in it here and there is all I really want from him."

Mindy looked at him and really saw his soul for the first time since they'd known each other. He'd never talked to her about his personal life, and it had surprised her when he'd said it.

Drake looked at her, completely forgetting about his previous statements. "God, I can't believe I had fun with you. You wanna fuck?"


	3. Meet Charlie

Drake could feel his sleep slipping away from him. He was so tired that he just wanted to sleep all day. But Mindy was in his room, and he felt like he should wake up before her. She'd finished the Vodka and had been way too drunk to take back to her house, so he'd helped her stumble into his room as quietly as he could as not to wake his father. He knew Mindy would have a cow if she woke up next to him, so he slept on the couch in the living room.

After forcing himself to get up, Drake slowly opened his eyes, and sitting on the recliner waiting for him to wake up was his father. _Ugh, God. Too early._ He decided to go back to sleep and deal with all this later.

"Where were you last night?"

"Mmm," Drake groaned.

"I asked you a question."

Maybe he could pretend to be asleep, then he'd go away.

Angrily, Martin stormed towards him, grabbed his shirt, and yanked him to his feet. He shoved him against the wall. "Answer me!"

Drake was now fully awake. He tried to get out of the man's grip, but he couldn't. "I went out, okay?"

"No, that's not okay. You didn't even ask me. You reek of weed and alcohol."

"So?"

"So?!" The single syllable had pissed his father off more than he'd expected, for Martin pulled him away from the wall, then shoved him against it again.

"Ah!" Drake clutched the back of his head and squeezed his eyes closed at the pain.

"What do you expect me to do? Be okay with this behavior and encourage you to do it more? Hell no! I don't ever want you smoking or drinking_ever_ again! Do you hear me?"

"Why? Are you afraid that I'll turn out like you?" Drake spat.

Martin wound his arm back, then punched Drake's nose. His head was turned with the force of the blow, and blood slowly started to gush out of his left nostril.

"Don't you ever step inside of my house under the influence of any alcohol or drugs or you're outta here. Do you understand me?"

"Is that a threat? Or a promise?"

Once again, Drake was punched in the nose, harder this time. Blood splattered from both nostrils now as he fell onto the ground, cupping his throbbing nose. "Ah!" He yelled out when Martin kicked his torso. "Ah!"

Martin gave him one more kick, which hit him square on the nose, before leaving the room. Drake forced himself into a sitting position. He kept one hand on his nose, and he moved the other to his hurt stomach. It was then that he noticed that his hand was completely covered with blood. He could feel it running down his face and across his lips. He cringed at the taste, then forced himself to his feet, pushing his back against the wall for support. "Ah!" He hissed.

Drake went into the bathroom and turned to his left, which is where the sink was. He looked in the mirror that was above it and removed his hand. Blood was still pouring rapidly down his face and dripping down his neck. He tried to squeeze his nostrils together. His mom had told Josh to do that once when he'd been hit in the face with a basketball. But Drake's nose was hurting too much right now to even touch it. He grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and wiped himself off, then he tossed it in the trashcan. After that, he grabbed a washcloth and wet it, then wiped himself off again just to make sure he'd gotten most of it. He washed the rag out under the water, then gently held it against his nose.

Just then, Mindy rushed into the bathroom, dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, and she started vomiting. Drake quickly turned on the shower and shut the door. He didn't want his father to hear. It'd just piss him off even more.

Drake made sure one of his hands was clean, then he used it to grab her hair and hold it back. "Just let it out," he said softly, noticing that she already had some dry vomit in her hair, which means that she'd probably puked in his room.

After about four minutes of throwing her insides up, Mindy sat back. "I feel sick."

"Really? I couldn't tell." Drake grabbed another rag and wet it before handing it to her so that she could wipe her mouth off.

"What happened?" She asked, seeing Drake holding his own washcloth as well.

"Random nose bleed."

"You're supposed to squeeze your nostrils together."

"I'll be fine."

"It'll help."

"I'm fine," he said firmly.

Mindy looked at him suspiciously, but she didn't say anymore about it.

"So no offense, but you really smell like alcohol and vomit, and I think it'd probably be a good idea if you showered before going home. I brought your clothes that you were wearing yesterday."

"Thanks," Mindy said. "So, um...how exactly did we get here?"

"I drove your car."

"You what?!"

"Look, let's talk about this later. It is way too fucking early to be yelling and shit. I've got a headache." Drake helped her to her feet. "I'm gonna shower in the other bathroom. Towels are here." He reached over to a shelf and grabbed a towel and washcloth for himself, then he left the bathroom. He went into his father's room and felt relieved when he saw that his dad had left for a beer run. He hated when he was at home. Just the thought of being anywhere near him seemed to affect his mood.

* * *

><p>Mindy turned off the shower and dried off. She pushed the curtain aside and found her outfit from yesterday (which Drake had washed last night and dried this morning), her purse and shoes, and her keys. She hadn't even heard Drake come back in here over the sound of the running water. The thought of it made her rather uncomfortable. After she put on her clothes, she saw that Drake had placed a clean toothbrush, toothpaste, his hair brush, two Tylenols, and a glass of water on the sink.<p>

When Mindy was finished fixing herself up and gratefully taking the medicine, she grabbed her things, but instead of leaving, she went to Drake's room to see if he was in there. She felt as though she should thank him. Her parents would have been livid if she would've came home in the state she was in last night. Drake hated her, but it was very kind of him to let her stay in his room.

Drake wasn't in his room, though. She stepped inside anyway, curious as to what his room looked like here. The sheets and comforter were stripped off of the bed. She faintly remembered waking up in vomit this morning. There was a large wet spot on the floor next to the bed, where he'd used some sort of carpert cleaner. There wasn't really much in his room. Just a bed, a dresser, a closet, and an old television set that was missing a remote controller. It wasn't at all what she'd expected. At Drake's mom's house, he had a lot. His and Josh's room was huge and amazing. But his father didn't exactly have a lot of money. There were a few girly posters, which were, no doubt, Megan's. It seemed as though they shared the room. Drake probably slept on the couch when he and Megan stayed here together.

Suddenly, Drake walked into the room, naked other than the towel that hung around his hips. He immediately stopped, surprised to see her. "Um, sorry. I-I thought you would've been gone by now."

What was she doing in his room? God, he didn't want her to see it. It was a lot different than his room at his mom's. Mindy was pretty much rich, and he hated that she was seeing this side of him.

"Sorry, I just - I wanted to say thanks. You really didn't have to-"

"It's okay."

She nodded. "And sorry about-" She looked at the floor where she'd puked.

"It happens." Drake shrugged.

"Right. Well, I guess I should get going." She hesitated for a moment before starting towards the door.

Drake could tell that she still wasn't quite ready to go home. And he knew that her hangover definitely wouldn't help her face her parents. "Well, I mean, since you're already here, we could go ahead and get some tutoring out of the way so you don't have to use the gas to come over later tonight." He realized that, since Mindy was rich, she probably never thought about how to save money.

"Sure. Sounds good to me." She was relieved when he'd offered to let her stay.

"I just gotta get dressed and get woken up a little first."

Mindy nodded, somewhat distracted. "So um...what happened?"

"What?" The young man was confused, but he understood when he followed Mindy's eyes to his own torso. "Oh, um, nothing." He wrapped his arms around himself, then realized that she'd start making up her own theories if he didn't lie to her. "I mean, I went walking the other day, and I was jumped." It was believable because of the neighborhood that he lived in.

"Why?

"I don't know. Well, I mean, I'm pretty much the only white kid around here so... But it's whatever. I just...it doesn't matter. I'm fine."

"Aw, poor Drakey's getting picked on."

He rolled his eyes. "It's not like that. It's nothing."

Mindy continued to look at his injuries for another moment. And she actually felt a little bad for him kind of maybe. She'd been teased plenty of times at school, but she'd never been beaten up. Boys are rough. And for no real reason.

Drake felt uncomfortable with her staring at him, so he walked past her and went over to the dresser. As he did so, she saw his back, which was decorated in more black and blue bruises. That's a lot. Was this a reoccurring thing? There's no way that those were given to him all at once, right? If it just happened a few days ago and they were all given at the same time, surely he'd barely be able to move without screaming. And some were a yellowish brown color, meaning that some were healing while others looked fresh. These definitely happened at different times. Was Drake being bullied by the neighborhood boys?

"Do you mind?" Drake was holding his clothes, waiting for her to step out so that he could get dressed for the day.

"Sorry. Yeah. I'll be in...somewhere else." Mindy left the room.

Drake had picked out a Beatles tee and a pair of black skinny jeans. Next, he went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and brushed through his hair. When that was finished, he found Mindy watching The Doctors in the living room. _Ugh. That is just like Mindy._

"You hungry?" he asked.

"Somewhat."

Drake went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. _Beer, beer, beer, beer. Damn, no milk._ Mr. Parker didn't really buy much groceries because he usually ate out. Sometimes, he'd bring something back for Drake if he was feeling generous, but he usually expected him to cook for himself. He must not be aware of the lack of food that was in the refrigerator. When Megan stayed here, Martin made sure that there was plenty of food. It hurt Drake to know how much his father loved Megan. He didn't understand why he didn't mean shit to his dad. Well, he didn't really care because Mr. Parker didn't mean shit to him either. Two could play at that game.

Drake found some bacon and three eggs, so he grabbed them out of the refrigerator and started cooking. When he got the chance, he grabbed the loaf of bread that was sitting on the counter. There were only three slices left. He grabbed two out and put them into the toaster, then tossed the bag with the end piece in it into the garbage because who the fuck eats that? Drake didn't notice that Mindy was now standing behind him until she spoke.

"Thanks for last night. I had fun."

"Good." Drake didn't really look at her. God, he'd told her he'd wanted to fuck her. He told her how he felt about his father. "So are you a coffee person or...?"

"No, I'm fine."

Drake wasn't either, and now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure they even had coffee in the first place.

"I met a lot of people that seemed to like me," Mindy said.

"Great."

"Rhinestone even asked if I wanted to move in with him. But it could've just been because he was really drunk."

"Maybe."

Mindy was filled with annoyance at his monotone, one-syllable replies. She felt uncomfortable and unwelcomed. Maybe he was just trying to be nice. Maybe he felt bad because he knew what was going on at home. No doubt, Josh had probably asked him to try and be friends with her since they were going to be spending so much time together.

"Um, you know what? Maybe I should just go," Mindy said.

"No," Drake said, looking at her finally. He knew that he was making her feel unwanted, but he also knew that what he'd said last night was probably all she could think about when she looked at him. "I mean, I just..." He sighed, then squinted slightly. "It's just kinda weird. You know?"

"Yeah. You pitied the nerd with no friends, took her out, and now your friends are gonna ridicule you. I get it." Mindy walked over to the kitchen table and grabbed her purse.

Drake turned to her. "No, that's not - fuck them. It's...it's just... Okay, so I mean, I told you I wanted to fuck you. So what? I was high and drunk as fuck."

"Oh my God, you did, didn't you?! I totally forgot. How could I have forgotten _that_?!"

Drake turned back to the stove, his cheeks turning red and his jaw dropped open. Why the fuck did he even say anything?! He was filled with humiliation when Mindy started laughing, and his face got hot.

"I'm am so gonna hold that over your head for the rest of your life!"

Bigger worries than his embarrassment started to fill his head. "Just don't tell Josh, okay? I didn't really mean it like that. And I would never do that to him."

"As long as you don't tell him that I got drunk and high."

"Deal."

Mindy set her purse back down, then leaned against the counter next to him. "So...when's the next one?"

Drake chuckled. "It's summer. There's always gonna be a party."

"Then we should totally go tonight."

"I mean, if you want to. You don't think your parents will say anything about you being gone two nights in a row?"

"Well, does your dad say anything?"

Drake didn't answer. He grabbed two plates out of the cabinet and started placing the food on it. "Look, if you go out partying all the time, that's fine. But if you're doing it because life sucks and you just wanna get fucked up to forget about something that's bothering you, it's not a good idea at all."

"And why's that, Mr. Know-It-All?" It was strange for Mindy to be receiving a lecture from Drake.

"Because then you're gonna start wanting to get fucked up every time there's a problem, and then you get dependent on it. And it doesn't help. It just pushes it to the side for the time being."

"Why do I get this feeling that there's some personal story behind this?"

"I mean, I've just seen a lot of friends get to the point where they kept using and using until they couldn't even make the smallest decision without it." Drake didn't want to tell her about his own struggle with a drug addiction that he developed during the fall of last year.

"You're not talking about weed..." She squinted skeptically. "...are you?"

"Sometimes, there's a lot of bigger drugs at these parties. I just think that, once you start learning how much better they make you feel than weed, you're gonna always want more and more."

Mindy gazed at him, then crossed her arms. Not in an angry way; she just never would've thought that Drake would know so much about these types of things. "What drugs _have_ you done?"

"What? I mean, why does that matter?" Drake was honestly shocked by the question. He'd just wanted to make sure that she was cautious at these parties.

"I just wanna know."

"I don't think I should tell you. I mean, I've clearly already said too much. You're gonna tell Josh, and he'll be all up my ass about it."

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will. I don't really wanna talk about it." Drake carried the plates to the table, then sat down.

Mindy followed. "Come on. I'll tell you a secret."

"I don't wanna know any of your secrets. I just wanna make sure you don't lose control."

"I actually have a sister," Mindy started anyway. "An older sister. But she got addicted to heroin, so my parents disowned her."

"Damn. That sucks." Drake took a bite of his bacon.

"I was in, like, middle school maybe when it all happened. I haven't talked to her since. I don't even know where she is. Or if she's alive."

"Shit." Drake stood. "Want something to drink?"

"Water's fine."

Drake grabbed a bottle of water and a beer from the refrigerator. He sat back down and passed her the water, then popped the tab on his drink and took a sip.

"Well, somebody's quite the alcoholic," Mindy joked.

However, Drake took offense. "I'm not an alcoholic."

"You do realize how early it is, right?" And you're already drinking?"

"Drinking _one_. I'm not trying to get drunk."

"I'm just saying. You had so many last night. You still want more?"

"It's just one fucking beer! I just like the taste! I'm not an alcoholic!" Drake's anger rose. He hated being called that. It was like being compared to his father. Only, he wasn't like his father.

"Okay, chill. I was just kidding." Mindy looked at him skeptically and noticed that Drake left his beer untouched for the rest of breakfast. "Your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"You didn't answer my question. What drugs have you done? I wanna know."

"Why does it matter so much?"

"I told you my secret."

"I didn't wanna know your secret."

"Come on," Mindy prodded. "Why don't you wanna tell me?"

"It's just not something I really like to tell everyone about. And I really don't feel like I can trust you."

"It's something bad, isn't it?"

"Just drop it."

So she did. They didn't quite finish their breakfasts. Neither was really hungry since they both felt nauseous.

"You ready to hit the books?" Mindy asked.

Drake groaned. "Do we have to?"

"What else is there to do?"

There really wasn't much to do at his house. There were no board games. There was no computer. The TV in the living room only played a minimal amount of channels, and the one in his room only allowed him to watch old VHS tapes that he'd already seen over and over and over again.

Drake shrugged. "Wanna get high?"

* * *

><p>Since Mindy was so new to this, she'd watched Drake closely as he took the seeds out of his bag of weed, then packed a bowl.<p>

"So where is your dad anyway?"

"I don't know." Drake picked up the pipe and the lighter.

As he put it to his lips, flicked the lighter, and inhaled, Mindy looked around nervously. She was really paranoid about sitting out in the open on his back porch. Drake held out the pipe and lighter to her as he exhaled, turning his head so that he wouldn't blow the smoke in her face.

"Okay, so how do I do this?"

"Oh, yeah. You just put it in your mouth and light the flame over the bowl as you breathe in. But you have to put your thumb over this hole right here. After you pull the lighter away, you move your thumb off the hole. All the while, you're still breathing in. And then, you know, just hold that breath in as long as you can. And if it's still a little orange, you can put your finger back over the hole, breathe in until the pipe fills with smoke, then let go of it and inhale, so then it's like getting two hits at once."

"Um..."

"Here. I'll show you." And Drake put the pipe to his lips and followed his own instructions, making sure to bring attention to when he took his thumb off the hole since that was probably what was so hard for her to remember.

When it was her turn, Drake watched her and talked her through it when she looked confused, but it wasn't really that complicated at all; it only sounded like a lot.

Mindy didn't hold in her breath of air long, for she started coughing. When she was able to talk, her voice scratchy, she said, "It is way too early for this."

"I mean, you don't have to. I don't want you to feel like I pressured you into any-"

"No, I want to." Mindy tried again. She held in her breath for a long time and only coughed as she released it, then she passed the pipe to Drake. "So when's your dad gonna get back home?"

"I don't know." Drake had already had his lips on the pipe, so his words came out slightly muffled.

"You don't get scared that he's just gonna walk out here and see you?"

Drake shrugged. "I don't care."

"Does he know already?"

"Yeah. He knew what we did last night."

"Oh, no. Was it because he heard me puking?"

"No. We just should've sprayed ourselves with cologne."

"Did you get in trouble?" Mindy questioned, still feeling like this was her fault.

"Not really."

"Wow." She was surprised. If her parents found out, she'd be grounded for life. "Does he hate me now?"

Drake shook his head and passed her the pipe. Several seconds later, he exhaled. "It's hot as fuck out here."

"You say the 'F' word a lot."

"So? It's just a word. You've never said it?"

"No."

"Liar."

"I haven't. I don't really cuss much at all. Just a few not so bad words here and there, bi-otch."

Drake laughed, then took the pipe from her. "Well, you're high."

Mindy smiled and let go of a fresh breath of oxygen. "Yeah..."

Drake shook his head and laughed some more, then took a hit while Mindy pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.

_**Josh: good morning. i miss u.**_

**_Mindy: You'll NEVER guess who I've been hanging out with this morning!_**

"I am so dreading this math. I fucking hate school," Drake said. "Who fucking needs it anyway? So what? I just don't comprehend things that well."

"Well, maybe if you'd stop frying your brain cells..."

"Shut up." Drake took another hit since Mindy was already up there, then he passed it.

"Your dad was telling me yesterday about you." She inhaled.

"What about me?"

She said nothing. She just passed it back to him and held her breath.

Drake breathed in, then pulled the pipe away and looked at the bowl with dissatisfaction. "Did you get anything?"

"I don't know."

He dumped the contents of the bowl out onto the table, then started packing it again. "What did my dad say about me?"

"I don't know. I just realized that I probably shouldn't say it."

"What, was he talking shit about me?"

"I think we should just wait until you're high. That way, you'll take it better." Mindy whispered, "Or you'll forget all about it." She looked at her phone.

**_Josh: who?_**

"Drake, take a picture with me. I'm gonna send it to Josh."

"Why?

"To show him who I dumped him for," she said sarcastically. "What do you think? I want him to see that we're actually hanging out."

Mindy held the phone up, and they posed for a picture. She was laughing because Drake was making an _I-hate-this-girl_ face. "Perfect." She hunched over her phone with a smile and sent it.

Drake took a hit. He passed the pipe to Mindy, then stood and went inside. "I'll be back."

Mindy smiled. This means she can hit it as many times as she wants. She's gonna skip Drake so many times that, when he comes back, he's gonna have to pack it again. However, she really only hit it twice before he came back because she forgot about her evil genius plan only seconds after it was formed.

Drake sat down, placing the water she'd had in front of her, then took a sip of his beer.

"Alcoholic," Mindly whispered jokingly.

"You're so fucking annoying." He took the pipe from her.

"Hey! I didn't even take a turn!"

"You were hitting it when I walked out here."

"Oh, yeah."

Since Mindy was already super high and Drake was just starting to get there, he just kept hitting it until it needed to be packed again, but he didn't pack it anymore. He just sat back in his chair as the high started to hit him.

**_Josh: no way! that's so awesome! wait, studying does not count as hanging out._**

**_Mindy: We haven't started yet. He's been putting it off all morning._**

Mindy looked up from her phone. "So is weed your favorite drug?"

"Nope."

"Okay, so you just admitted you've done other things."

"I mean, it's not as big of a deal as you're making it. I've done plenty of other things. Some I liked; some not so much. Just getting what I can get."

"And what things have you been able to get?"

Drake shook his head with a smile. "You never quit, do you? You and Josh are just alike."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I mean, I guess it's a good thing. He just always wants me to tell him about these things because he's worried about me. He always wants to know what I'm doing."

"Well, that's nice of him."

"Eh, I guess. It's just annoying. And honestly, I feel like I can't really trust him with that kinda stuff. He's threatened to tell Mom and get me sent to rehab and shit."

"Rehab? Are you addicted to something?"

"I think he just doesn't understand that experimental teenage drug-use is natural."

Mindy didn't notice that he didn't exactly answer her question.

"If you haven't ever tried a certain drug, you can't judge or empathize with someone who has, whether experimenting or addicted. It's one of my pet peeves, I think."

"Weed makes you smarter. You just used '_experimenting_' and '_empathize_.'" And in one sentence."

"What's so great about '_experimenting_?'"

"That's just got way too many letters for you to comprehend, I thought."

"Um, thanks." Drake looked down at his lap and wiped away at nothing in particular.

The weed gave the two a connection and allowed each other to read minds. Or at least, that's what it felt like. And Mindy was reading Drake's mind right now.

"You're insecure about how hard it is for you to learn."

Drake kept his head down and only shrugged as if what she said meant nothing to him. "I mean, not really. I don't give a shit."

Mindy continued because she knew the truth. She could see it radiating off of him. "You fear that everyone around you is gonna grow up and have their amazing careers while you're stuck living paycheck to paycheck, trying to pay rent on your trailer with your crummy fast food job."

"That was...specific," Drake said. "Someone's gotta have those jobs. Not everyone was meant for greatness."

Mindy looked at him as if he was a vulnerable, stray puppy that was begging for a home. "Aw."

"It just sucks, you know? There's so much out there that no one knows, and no one will ever know. But some people out there are considered geniuses already. And what if humanity actually did eventually learn all there was to know? I can barely get through twelfth grade math as it is."

"What about becoming a famous musician? I thought you've always wanted that."

"Yeah, right. Like that'll ever happen."

Mindy frowned. "You know what I think? I think that maybe there are some people you kinda look up to that don't believe in you, and you let that get to you."

Drake shook his head, his eyes still low. "No way. Who do I even look up to?"

"Josh. Your mom. Your dad."

Drake chuckled harshly. "He was talking shit about me last night then? Let me guess. He told you I was hopeless because I'm not spectacular at school or music."

"Not exactly." Mindy watched him while he shook his head as if he didn't care. "Has he said that to you before?"

And then suddenly, Drake looked up with a smile, which made his eyes glint. "Man, this is a really depressing conversation. Shit. Let's change the topic."

And just like that, they did, and Mindy forgot all about the unanswered question that they'd left behind.

"Did Josh say how it was at the lakehouse?" Drake asked.

"Oh, man. I forgot I was even texting him." Mindy looked at her phone.

**_Josh: make sure he does it. he needs to pass._**

**_Mindy: I will. He actually did okay yesterday._**

"You're telling him that I tried to fuck you."

Mindy just grinned, leading him on.

"Don't," he pleaded. "Josh ignored me for forever because I made him late for some big test. He will _never_ speak to me again if he finds out I tried to have sex with his girlfriend."

"Why didn't you tell me all of this _before_ I sent it?"

"No, you didn't."

"Sorry..."

"Mindy, why would you do that? You literally just promised me that you wouldn't say anything. God, he's gonna be so fucking pissed."

Mindy pulled out her cell phone and started typing. "Well, I'll just tell him you didn't really mean it because you were just really drunk and high." She pressed send.

"No!" Drake jumped out of his chair and reached for her phone, but she quickly slid it inside her bra. "Mindy, what are you trying to do?! He can not know that I still do things like this!" A short guitar solo went off, alerting Drake that he had a new text message. "Shit, that's probably him right now telling me he's called mom and she's gonna call and tell my dad to take me to rehab." He looked down at his phone, but it wasn't Josh.

**_Mindy: Got ya! Ha ha ha!_**

"You are a bitch. I fucking hate you."

"Why would you be going to rehab for smoking weed?"

"Josh has this idea in his head that I was addicted to drugs, and he confronted me about it, like, a month ago, but I denied it. And he almost told Mom, but I begged him not to and I told him I'd quit. But I haven't. And if he finds out..." Drake looked at her. "Please, don't ever tell him. He'll never talk to me again. My mom will be so heart-broken. And my dad will kill me. And then bring me back to life just so he can kill me again."

"Wait, you told me you weren't addicted to anything."

"I'm not! That's just it! He's just really paranoid or something!"

**_Josh: good. tell him im proud of him._**

Mindy was still looking at her phone, typing a reply. "Josh said he's proud of you."

**_Mindy: So how are things at the lakehouse?"_**

"My house is so boring. Wanna go to the store," Drake asked.

"For what?"

"I don't know. To look around. And my dad asked me to get some medicine for him, but I haven't been able to get there."

"I really don't feel like driving is a good idea right now."

"It's easy," Drake pursueded. "Or I can drive." He could tell that she still seemed unsure. "Come on. What else is there to do? Math?"

Mindy squinted her eyes. "If you wreck my car, I swear I'm gonna kill you."

* * *

><p>Mindy was surprised by how well he could drive while high. He didn't even drive that perfectly when he was sober.<p>

"Wal-Mart?" She looked at him from the passenger's seat. "Of all the stores we could've went to, you choose..._Wal-Mart_?"

"I mean, yeah. You'll be surprised what Wal-Mart actually has when you just roam down all the isles instead of just grabbing whatever you came here for."

She still didn't look too satisfied.

"Or I can just run in and grab the medicine, and then we can go somewhere else."

"That sounds better. Preferably somewhere with food. I'm so hungry!"

"Of course you are." Drake got out of the car.

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you calling me fat?" She followed.

"No, you just have the munchies. It's normal."

"Do I look okay? I mean, my eyes aren't bloodshot or half-closed, are they?"

Drake looked at her, then smiled and turned away.

"What? Are they?"

Drake didn't say anything. When they got inside, Drake walked straight to the pharmacy. He knew exactly what isle it was on, and he grabbed a box without even stopping as he walked by. Mindy looked at the shelf he'd taken it from. _COLD & COUGH HBP_.

"Your dad has high blood pressure, too?" she said. "So does mine."

Drake suddenly stopped, then reached into his pocket. "Shit."

"What?"

"I think I left my wallet in your car. You think you could get it for me? I'll wait in line."

"Yeah, sure."

As Mindy disappeared, Drake walked through the racks of clothes that were nearby. As he did so, he hid the box of medicine inside of his waistband, then made sure it was covered with his shirt. After that, he started towards the door. He felt nervous and extremely paranoid, but he knew it was just the weed. He'd done this plenty of times before. He'd taken multiple boxes at a time and the alarm hasn't gone off yet. He tried to act normal as he passed by the greeter that stood just inside the door. He nodded, as the man smiled back.

"Have a good day. See you soon."

Drake smiled. As many times as he came here, he should already know this greeter's life story, but without the nametag, the teen wouldn't even know this guy's name. They never bothered to talk much. But they always recognized each other. Drake always wondered if he looked strange going in there and walking aback out two minutes later empty-handed. But he didn't really care to even pretend to look around and be interested by anything at the store. He'd always just wanted to go home and get right to it.

Drake relaxed as he stepped out into the bright sunlight. He squinted, then waited for a police car to pass before he started walking across the crosswalk. Mindy wasn't far from sight. He sped up. "Hey."

Mindy jumped out of her skin.

"Calm down." Drake walked beside her. "What's wrong with you?"

"Well, this cop stopped me and gave me this weird look, but I could just be paranoid, and I have no idea where the car is."

Drake knew, and guided her in the proper direction. He always parked around the same area. He came here high a lot, so he started parking in a certain area so that it'd be easy to find his car when he forgot. Walking up and down the parking lot looking clueless just screams '_I'm a stoner_.' He knew by experience. "What did the cop say?"

"He just told me I dropped my keys. I don't even remember you handing me the keys when we got out of the car!"

"Whoa, chill out."

"I think I'm gonna go home."

"What? No."

"Yes. It wasn't a good idea to go out in public like this. I need to go home and sleep. But eat first."

Drake couldn't believe that he was admitting this to himself, but maybe the reason he'd allowed her to stay wasn't because he felt bad for her. Maybe he just wanted her to stay. At least then, he had company. When his father was home, he never really said much to Drake. Sometimes, they had conversations, sure. But mostly, Drake was either getting punched or ignored. And he didn't have a car, so he was never really able to go to a friend's house or to the store. He didn't have any friends in his dad's neighborhood. They didn't jump him like he'd told Mindy. They just never really spoke to him. And it wasn't because he was white. Or maybe it was. It didn't really matter. The only time he ever spoke to anyone in his neighborhood was when he was buying weed from one of the kids he knew from school.

And lastly, Martin wouldn't dare to hit his son when someone else was around. Sure, he snuck a few punches in while Mindy had been asleep, but that was nothing. Drake could handle that. And if she ever somehow found out, which was impossible, she wouldn't do shit because she hates him.

_So I kinda wanna hang out with Mindy._

"What?" She asked, looking over at him.

"Shit. How much of that did I say out loud?"

"Just a sentence. You like hanging out with me?" Mindy opened her door when they reached her car, then got inside.

Drake was driving again. "I didn't say that. I just think that you shouldn't go home right now, you know? Not high as fuck. Your parents will find out, especially since you're being really fucking paranoid right now. And they'll know it was me who gave it to you, and you won't be my tutor anymore, and then I'm gonna fail and have to repeat a whole year of school."

"You're probably right. My parents will be furious if they found out," Mindy agreed. "But I really don't wanna go out in public to any stores or anything."

"I mean, I guess we can go back to my house and actually do math."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

Drake put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. "Cool. There's a McDonald's over there. Want anything?"

"I want, like, everything."

"Well, there isn't much at my house, so let's get something. What do you want?"

Mindy told him what she wanted, and they went through the drive-thru to order. As they pulled around to the window, Mindy opened her purse.

"I got it," Drake said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and handed the cashier his money.

"Wow. Well, thanks. That's really sweet."

"Well, you know, it's like you said last night: I never cease to surprise you, right? Just trying to live up to that."

Mindy nodded. "And if I'm remembering correctly, I then proceeded to call you pathetic."

Drake chuckled. "Yeah. Yup, I think that's what happened." He slid his wallet back into his pocket when he received his change, then pulled up to the next window.

"I thought you said you left your wallet in the car."

"What?" Drake then remembered the excuse he'd given Mindy so that he could get rid of her and steal the cough medicine. "Yeah, I thought I did. I found it, though."

The lady opened the window and passed them a bag of food.

"Oh, wow, that smells so good right now."

* * *

><p>"You're not hungry?" Mindy asked as she watched Drake put his food into the refrigerator.<p>

Drake shook his head. "No." He'd nibbled on a few fries just so he wouldn't look strange, but he just couldn't get himself to eat. If he ate now, he'd throw up the pills that he was about to take. It was hard enough to keep them down period.

Mindy watched him sketchily. Shouldn't he be having the munchies right now, she thought unsurely. Maybe it's different for everyone.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom. But we can start on the math after I get out. You wanna grab the book? It's in my room."

"Sure." Mindy stood and went into his room, wiping the salt from the fries onto her skirt as she walked.

Drake went into the bathroom. He didn't hesitate. He immediately opened the yellow box that had been tucked away in his waistband. If he thought about what he was doing, he would possibly vomit. The box held two packages, each containing eight red, circular pills. He opened the drawer under the sink and pulled out the pair of scissors that he kept there. It would take him too long to rip open the packages if he did it normally because his fingernails were bitten off. Drake cut up one side of the package just next to a row of four pills. This way, he could easily peel back the paper. He poured them into his hand, then he dropped them into a small paper cup that he'd taken from the stack on the sink. He got the other four pills out, then poured them in as well. After that, he grabbed another cup and filled it with water, then he poured the eight pills into his mouth and immediately chased them down his throat with the water. He flinched at the taste, then started pacing around the bathroom, focusing on keeping the pills down.

Drake used to be able to take these things with no problem. He'd even taken over sixteen in one swallow and had never thrown up. But things started to change a while back. He wasn't sure if the people that manufactured these added something in them to make them taste bad so that teenage substance abusers wouldn't use them as much or if he'd just taken them so much that the taste was just unbearable to him now. Whatever it was, he hated it, but it didn't stop him one bit.

He took another sip of water, then started the process all over again with the other package. Normally, it only took eight to get someone high, but Drake had been using for a good minute. Sixteen was hardly enough. He definitely would've gotten more if Mindy wasn't with him.

Triple C's. Skittles. Red Devils. Dex. Poor Man's PCP. Or his favorite: Charlie. It was a codename that he'd came up with actually, so no one who he hadn't shared the codename with knew what he was talking about. To a friend, "_I'm gonna hang with Charlie tonight_" meant that he was going to get fucked up. To anyone else that may have been listening, it simply meant that he was just gonna hang with some guy named Charlie.

Okay, so he'd lied to Mindy when he'd told her that he wasn't addicted to anything. He'd been using Triple C's for roughly a year now maybe. Not consecutively. When he'd do it every night for weeks on end, he'd eventually build up a tolerance, and the pills wouldn't work on him. He hated those times. He'd have to break the habit for a month or two. The longer, the better. When he got back on them, he'd start with eight, then when those weren't doing the job, he'd move to twelve, then sixteen, then twenty-two, then twenty-eight. That's two boxes. The most he'd ever done in one day was seven and a half boxes. A.K.A. 120 pills in twenty-four hours. He knew he had a problem. He had no problem admitting it to himself. He just didn't, at this time, care to stop yet, so he didn't want to admit it to anyone else. His friends didn't even know that he was still using them. Josh had found an empty box here and there on a few occassions, and that's how he'd found out. Eight pills (the minimum one had to take in order to reach a high) was a lot to him. And Drake was using how many?

Drake lifted his hand and touched his forehead with the back of it. It felt to him like he had a fever. His face always got hot when he took Triple C's. He liked the warm feeling of his skin. It was comforting. Drake put the empty packages into the box and folded it, then hid it inside of his back pocket so that he could get rid of it when he had the chance. After that, he left the bathroom and went to the kitchen table and took his seat.

Mindy was almost finished eating by the time he rejoined her. "You alright? You don't look so good."

Drake looked sick, and his lips were twisted into a frown. It was hard for him to hide his disgust from those pills. He had his right hand resting on his stomach. "Still a little nauseous from last night." Just opening his mouth and speaking made him want to vomit.

"Are you sure you wanna do this now? I mean, if you need to rest or something-"

"No, I'm fine. It'll help distract me." Drake needed something to distract him. First, from the taste. If he puked, the high might not be as good, or possibly he won't even feel it at all. Secondly, he needed to be distracted because, if he kept anticipating the high, it wouldn't come. It's a strange mind thing. He couldn't completely forget that he was going to get high in the next hour, but he couldn't constantly think about it either. Just a few quick self-reminders here and there.

Drake scooted the book a little closer so that it was in between the two of them. "So what the hell is all this?"

* * *

><p>Drake had been participating well for the beginning of this tutor session, but now he just wasn't focused <em>at all<em>. Mindy was sure that he wasn't listening. His legs bounced up and down rapidly. His eyes seemed empty as if he was stuck in his own head. And he kept rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face restlessly.

"So the answer is...?" Mindy questioned, looking at him with squinted, suspicious eyes.

"Mmm...four, right?"

"No... It's..."

Her voice faded out again. Drake rested his head on his hand and rubbed his forehead. He smiled slightly when he felt his lips going numb. That's the best part. Numb lips always told him that his high was about to hit. However, as all the signs increased (numb lips, restlessness, inchiness), so did his nausea.

Drake suddenly got up from the table, interrupting whatever his tutor was saying, and hurried into the bathoom. It wasn't long before Mindy heard him puking.

"Are...are you okay?" Mindy called. She wasn't sure if Drake wanted to be alone, or if maybe she should go and comfort him like he'd done for her that morning.

"I'm fine," he called, then gagged. "Shit." He looked down and saw some red floating in the water. It wasn't much, luckily. He'd only thrown up a few of his pills.

Sunlight reflected on the kitchen walls, attracting Mindy's attention. She looked out the window and saw Martin pulling into the driveway. She got up and went into the bathroom to warn Drake and help him clean up if needed. "Your dad's back."

Drake groaned, then moved over to the sink. He stumbled over the rug, but caught himself before he could fall. Throwing up wasn't all that bad. During the process, his eyes would get watery just because that's what vomiting did to him, but once he wiped the water away, his vision was still blurry, and_that's_ when the fun happens. He was finally high after an hour and six minutes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mindy asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Is that blood?" she asked with worry as the bright red in the toilet attracted her attention.

"No." Drake flushed it down. "Just something I ate." He started to brush his teeth after wiping his mouth off.

"You didn't eat anything..."

Drake didn't respond.

"I feel like you're hiding something from me. You're acting really weird right now."

"You're just still being paranoid from the weed." Drake's words were muffled because of the toothbrush in his mouth.

"Why are you puking up blood?"

"It's not blood. I told you. I'm okay. Trust me." He looked at her reflection through the mirror.

When she saw his eyes, they seemed different, but she couldn't pinpoint what the change was exactly. Drake felt like making eye contact with her only made her more skeptical since his eyes were probably super dilated, so he looked down and spat into the sink, then rinsed out his mouth.

"Are...are you bulimic?"

"What?" Drake was shocked by her question.

"That's why you didn't wanna eat. And you threw up what little you did."

"I'm not-"

"And that's why you looked so disgusted earlier! Because you couldn't get yourself to throw up like you'd wanted to."

"Mindy, whoa. Let's not jump to any conclusions."

"Drake, you're really skinny already. If you get any smaller-"

"I'm not fucking bulimic, okay?!" Drake led her out of the bathroom, but instead of going to the kitchen table, he guided her into his room, shut the door behind her, and turned on the radio. His agrivation towards her had gotten lost somewhere in the walk to his room. "What kinda music do you listen to? I feel like you might be that type of girl who listens to classical piano and play the harp, but I think I'm just stereotyping you."

"Yeah, big time," Mindy said with a chuckle. "I mean, I listen to normal music. Whatever comes on the radio. I don't know."

"The Beatles?"

"Not really."

Drake stared at her with a frown. "Get the fuck out. Get out of my fucking house." He cracked a smile, then clicked play on the stereo.

Mindy noticed that his attitude had changed quickly. He'd lost his temper with her just moments ago, but now it was all forgotten.

"So what about your math?" she asked.

He gave her a puppy dog pout. "Can't we do it later?"

"I mean, I guess. It has been an hour that we've been going over it. What do you wanna do then?"

"Mmm..." He acted as if he were thinking about it, then he looked at her with a smile.

"Again? I don't think that's a good idea."

"Of course it is. Come on. I just don't get to go out often because I don't have a car, and it's not as fun when I'm smoking by myself."

Mindy honestly wasn't all that opposed to it. She was so tired that she needed something fun to keep her from falling asleep. And there really wasn't much else to do here. "What about your dad?"

Drake shrugged. "Who gives a fuck?" He opened his window, then grabbed his weed and pipe and started packing a bowl.

"Do you always smoke this much?" Mindy asked.

"Only when I'm at my dad's because there's shit else to do."

"How often do you smoke weed at your mom's?"

"I don't know. Just whenever. Sometimes I do it a few times a day. Sometimes I'm broke for the week."

Drake pulled his lighter out of his pocket, then took the first hit. He passed the pipe to Mindy as he held in his breath.

"Um...lighter?"

He handed it to her having forgotten that it was still in his hand. Mindy almost couldn't remember how to hit the pipe, but Drake seemed too into his own little world for her to ask him, so she went by trial and error.

Drake closed his eyes and slowly let his breath escape his lips. He kept his head pointed towards the window so that the smoke went outside. A peaceful smile filled his features.

"I feel like I haven't thought clearly all day," Mindy said.

"Or what if the only time you think clearly is when you're high? What if the government only allows us to use a certain percentage of our brain, but when we're high, we use all of it, and they're scared of that, you know? So they make drugs illegal because they know they couldn't control us otherwise."

"Are you already high?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling with youth and rebellion.

She passed him the pipe. After hitting it twice and giving it back, he moved over to his dresser and lit an inscence. After waiting a short moment, he blew it out. Smoke rose into the air and filled the room with a strong scent. It burned Mindy's eyes slightly, but it smelled good.

"What is that?"

"Inscence."

"I mean, what scent is it?"

Drake grinned. "Um..." He let go of an unsure chuckle, then moved over to the other side of the bed and laid down, resting his head on his arm.

"What?"

"It's called 'orgasm.' As in something we could be having right now." He gave her a look of innocence as if he hadn't even said what he just had.

Mindy didn't say anything else. She didn't know what else to say. So she checked her phone and realized she'd forgotten that she'd been texting Josh over an hour ago.

**_Josh: it was a long drive, but i had a blast yesterday swimming in the lake. megan and i actually bonded a lot, which was weird._**

_**Mindy: Good. I'm glad you two are getting along. I didn't know how you guys would be able to be together for that long of a time without going at each other's throats and-**_

"I'm sorry. I made that awkward," Drake said, picking up on her silence towards him.

"No, it's okay. I was just texting Josh back." Mindy looked at her screen again, but couldn't even remember what she was saying or what exactly she was replying to. Yup, I'm high. So she held down the backspace button and settled with one word.

**_Mindy: Good._**

She looked at Drake and put her phone inside of her pocket, for she felt like she wasn't giving him any attention.

He continued to apologize. "Sometimes I just say things without thinking." His cheeks turned a sight shade of pink.

"Do you always get horny when you're high?" She smiled. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm sure you'd say that to anybody."

"No. I don't think I would. It'd have to be someone that I was attracted to because I have high standards. I mean, I don't make out with just any girl. She has to be hot."

"You're attracted to me?" Mindy was shocked that he'd admitted that.

"Is that was I just said? Shit. I am so high right now."

Mindy could tell that he was speaking the truth because his words were slurring all over the place. But maybe she could pick at his brain and learn some things about him. Is that considered taking advantage of his current state of mind?

"But are you, though?" she said.

"Am I what?"

"Attracted to me?"

Drake looked at her, surprised by her question. But then he started to really look at her: her curious eyes, her full, pink lips, her sizable breasts that she kept well-hidden in her button-up shirt, her long, tan legs. "Yeah." His voice was quiet. "I am."

Mindy was flattered and couldn't help but grin, which made him feel even more humiliated.

He tore his eyes away from her body. "I shouldn't have said that." Drake stood, suddenly uncomfortable with laying next to her, although she was only sitting on his bed. He moved back over to the radio and turned it up so that his father couldn't hear them talking if they mentioned drugs. Mindy noticed that he moved his hand slowly towards the radio as if he couldn't tell how far away it was. After that, he stumbled closer to her and took a seat on the floor. He leaned his back against the dresser so that he faced her.

"Drake?"

"Hmm?"

"That medicine that you got today - did you take it?"

"What?" _Am I acting strange? I mean, I basically told her that I wanted to fuck her, but I've said it before when I wasn't on Triple C's._ Suddenly, Drake couldn't remember anything he'd said or done in the past ten minutes.

"Does it get you high or something?"

"What are you talking about? It's just medicine for colds and coughs. I had to get it for my dad."

"Did he take them?"

"No. What are you..." His voice trailed off when she held up the yellow box with the empty packages still inside. "Where'd you get that?"

"It fell out of your pocket. Did you take _all_ of them? Drake, that's a lot."

"Wait, you don't understand."

"Can't you die from taking this many? This is what made you throw up, wasn't it?"

"It's not as bad as it looks."

"You took _sixteen_ pills!"

"Shh! My dad will slaughter me if he hears you!" Drake looked at his door worriedly, trying to listen over the music for footsteps. "Sixteen is nothing with these," he explained. "I've taken way more before. I'm safe. I know what I'm doing. Please, don't tell Josh."

"I mean, I don't care. You do what you want. But you're sure you won't overdose or anything?"

"I'm a hundred percent sure." He was relieved when she said she wouldn't rat him out.

"So what does it feel like?" she questioned curiously.

"I don't know how to describe it. It's not like weed. When my friend first tried it, he said it was like alcohol, but with a little more pizzazz...whatever the hell that means. I don't see it. It's just amazing. I've never been able to describe it any other way. You think of weird things, you do weird things a little, and sometimes you hallucinate things."

"Where'd you hear about it from?"

"One of my friends told me about it a while back."

"A while back? How long have you been doing it?"

"I mean, I don't do it a lot. On rare occassions. I think I did them for the first time, like six months ago maybe." Drake wanted to sound experienced so that she wouldn't think he was endangering himself, but he didn't want it to sound like he'd been doing them heavily for a long time. "I mean, I could count on two hands how many times I've done them."

Mindy believed him. "Just be careful."

"Of couse. Always."

Drake was honestly surprised by her reaction. She hated him, so he'd expected her to tattle on him just to piss him off. _Did_ she still hate him? After hanging out for one night, had all the negative feelings they'd once held towards one another just vanished? He didn't really hate her at the moment. She was kind of fun to be around. She kept his dad away from him. She wasn't going to rat him out.

"You're kinda cool," Drake said.

"Kinda? Gee, thanks."

"That's not what I meant. I mean, you know...you're cool."

"Wow. You have a very narrow vocabulary. Did you fail English, too?"

"No."

Drake looked down at his lap and didn't say anything else, which made Mindy question why he'd suddenly gotten so quiet. Then she recalled the talk about Drake's insecuries that they'd had on the back porch, and she could've punched herself in the face. Here they are. Mindy and Drake. _Actually_ getting along. And she'd just ruined it and made him close himself off again.

"I didn't mean to say that," she said.

"It happens." Drake brushed it off, surprised that she even apologized in the first place. "I mean, it's true."

"I think we should talk about something else. We should be having fun right now. Do you have any board games?"

"I mean, I got this stupid _'Would You Rather?'_ game, but the questions suck." He opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand and pulled it out, then handed it to Mindy. "Did you know that your name rhymes with Cindy?"

"Um, yeah, I'm aware."

"One letter could've changed your whole life. Just think. If your name was Cindy, you might not have ended up here at this exact moment. We might not have even knew each other."

"God, how great that would've been."

Drake just smiled, then looked at the box in her hand. "Read a question."

Mindy opened the booklet, then looked at the first question. "Would you go a year without showering for a million dollars?"

"No way."

"Your turn." She passed the book to Drake.

He had to use his pointer finger to concentrate on where to look in order to read the question because his vision was so blurry. "Would you...eat a box of...I can't read this...haw...ha..."

"Sound it out."

"Shut up." Drake rubbed his eyes as if that would clear up his vision. "...hain? What's hain?"

"Let me see." Mindy took the book from him, then read. "Would you eat a box of _hair_ to be on your favorite reality TV show?"

"That did not say _'hair'_ when I read it."

"Eating a box of hair? I don't think so. These questions are really stupid."

"Yeah, I know."

"Why don't we just talk?" Mindy suggested. "Make up our own questions? Actually get to know each other?"

"Okay. Go for it."

"Hmm...what do you really think of me?"

Drake chuckled. "God, you're such a girl." He scooted up, then laid back, rested on his elbows, and stretched out his feet in front of him. "I think..." He paused and thought about it more. "I think you like everyone to believe that you're a perfectionist and that you're sure of who you are when, really, you wanna make mistakes for the attention you crave from your parents, and because they've got this whole idea of who you're supposed to be when you don't wanna be that because you don't wanna be who they are since they can't even keep their own family together. I think you're scared to tell them or disagree with them because you think they'll just toss you away like they did to your sister. I think the reason you've been hanging out with me is because you like getting high, and I'm the only one you know with a connection. I think you wanna rebel because you're parents pissed you off, and you believe that I'm the perfect person to rebel with because you want your parent's attention, and you don't care as much as you think you do if you got caught, and you sure as hell don't care if I get caught in the middle of all this. I think you're taking advantage of me because, if I don't let you stay and get high and party with me, you'll tell Josh what I've been doing, and you know that I'm scared about what he'll do, so you're just using me to get back at your parents." Drake looked down at his lap, unsure whether or not he should be saying any of this. "I think Josh never tried to fuck you, so you don't think you're as beautiful as you really are. I think he made you feel insecure about yourself and the way you look although I know he didn't mean to. I think you excel at school, not only because of how much your parents push you, but also because you know you don't really fit in. And if you're smarter than everyone, you feel superior, and you know that they don't believe you care about popularity. But I think you do care because you just wanna be normal and have a normal life and be poor like a normal teen and make mistakes like a normal person. I think you care what I think of you because you wanna know what it's like being around you from someone else's point of view. And I think you're wanting me to tell you all of your flaws so you can correct them in hopes that everyone will finally love you and you'll be popular and your mom will stay. I think you're scared that you're gonna end up alone. I think it's your worst fear. And I think you're trying way too hard to prevent it, and your actions are, instead, making it into a reality." Drake looked up at her and was surprised to see tears in her eyes. He immediately sat up. "Shit. What did I say? I'm so sorry. Don't cry. I'm such a dick."

Mindy wiped at her eyes. "No, it's nothing like that. It's just...you're right. About everything. How did you know all of that about me? Josh doesn't know any of that. I didn't even know a lot of it."

"When you get high with someone, you kinda get a connection with them sometimes. Like you know exactly who the other is. I still probably shouldn't have said it."

"Let's just forgot about it. What's your question?"

"Question for what? I fucking forgot what we were doing."

"Just asking each other questions to get to know each other."

"Oh, right." Drake thought. After making Mindy cry by answering her last question, he didn't want to ask her anything too personal. "How old were you when you stopped playing with Barbies?"

Mindy laughed. "You know, I'm not even gonna lie. I think I was fifteen because they were my only friends."

"Aw."

"My turn. Hmm..." She looked around the room as if that would help her think of a question. "What's your biggest fear?"

"Shit, um... Nothing. I'm a fearless bastard." Drake thought about it as Mindy laughed.

"No, really."

"I don't know. I guess...being a failure. Not having an actual career and not being able to make it and support myself on my own."

"That's logical."

"I mean, I also have a fear of, you know, like, creepy girls with creepy hair who walk creepily. Like the girl from The Ring. So it's between those two."

Mindy laughed, and Drake joined in.

* * *

><p>After about six or so hours, Drake's high had worn off, and he'd found it too hard to keep his eyes open. Since he was now asleep, Mindy decided that maybe it was finally time to go back home. They definitely weren't going to a party tonight. She was too tired and sick anyway. Her high had worn off long ago, so she was good to drive. She gathered up her things, then quietly left. She locked the door behind her because there was weed and beer cans in random places, and she didn't want Mr. Parker to walk in and see anything while Drake was asleep.<p> 


	4. The Basement

Drake awoke with a start. He looked at the door, where a loud banging was coming from, rattling his skull.

"I said open this damn door!"

The young man then saw that it was locked. He pushed himself out of bed, then picked up his alarm clock, squinting at the brightly lit blue numbers. "It's 10:30," he called, his voice strained from tiredness. "You're already drunk?"

"That's none of your business. Don't worry about what I've been doing."

"Oh, I won't," Drake mumbled. He didn't give a shit about what his father did.

"Excuse me?! What the fuck did you just say?!"

Drake looked around his room, then saw a few empty beer cans. He hid them under his bed for the time being, then put his pipe and bag of weed away.

"I'm gonna count to three, and this door better be open! One!"

Drake rolled his eyes and yawned, then laid back down. _It's way too early for this shit._

"Two! Three!" Martin tried the door, but it didn't budge. "Open this damn door right now, you mother fucker! Do you hear me, you piece of shit?!"

Drake was asleep in no time. His father's words were like lullibies to him. Drake could sleep peacefully knowing that he was safe from Martin. And maybe when he woke up, he'd be cooled off.

* * *

><p>Drake wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep for, but when he woke up, the first thing he saw was his father, who was leaning on his dresser, sipping on a beer. His eyes immediately darted towards the door, which was still locked. <em>How did he...? The window? Really?<em>

Martin set his beer down, then moved towards his son. Drake was on his feet and standing in the corner opposite the door in a flash.

"Didn't I tell you to open the door? HUH?!"

Drake flinched at the man's monstrous tone._ Damn it! Why the fuck did I run to this damn corner?!_ He's gonna get it now. Unless..._the window!_ He made a break for it, but his father grabbed his hair and yanked, throwing him onto the floor behind him.

"I don't think so." Martin slammed the window shut so hard that the glass almost broke. He locked it, then turned back to his son, who was clutching his head, which he'd hit against the corner of his nightstand in his fall.

"Leave me alone!" Drake tried to sound angry, but only fear showed.

Martin chuckled, then grabbed his shirt in his fists, dragged him to his feet, then shoved him against the door. Drake winced as the knob poked into his lower back.

"When I tell you to do something, YOU BETTER FUCKING DO IT! When I tell you to open the door, YOU OPEN IT!"

"Get the fuck away from me!"

"You watch your mouth, you shit head!" Martin pulled him away from the wall, then shoved him against it again.

"Ah!" Drake couldn't tell if he felt more pain from the knob stabbing into his back or hitting his head against the door. He put his hands on Martin's chest and shoved as hard as he could, and the intoxicated man was knocked down .

Drake quickly turned and unlocked his door, then started running for the house's exit. However, Martin was quickly behind him. He shoved him into the kitchen.

Drake lost his footing and flipped over the table, knocking it over with him. "Ahh!" He forced himself onto his hands and knees, but was kicked in the side and forced onto his back. The young man put his arms in front of himself, blocking his torso from another blow. He was successful. However, his right arm now screamed with pain. "Stop it!"

Drake received another hard kick, and he couldn't stop himself from yelling out. He turned onto his stomach, then tried to pull himself across the kitchen floor. And just for the hell of it, Martin let him go. It was funner this way.

After crawling across the kitchen, Drake pushed himself to his feet. He hurried out of the kitchen and rushed towards the front door. He yanked at the knob, and the door opened, but only by about an inch. _The stupid chain. Why do I always forget the fucking-_

Drake's hand shook as he struggled with it, but Martin had already caught up to him. He shoved him against the door, then pinned Drake's arm behind his back and yanked his hair, causing him to look up.

"Ah!" Drake squeezed his eyes closed, trying hard to stop focusing on the pain in his scalp and arm. "Let go!"

But Martin only pushed harder, causing his arm to release a pop.

"Ah!" Drake pressed himself against the door as much as he could. "You're gonna break my fucking arm!"

Martin yanked his hair further, causing Drake to hiss with pain. "What have I told you about that fucking language, boy?"

"Let me go," Drake struggled.

Mr. Parker slung him onto the ground behind him. Drake was quick to get onto his feet, and he dashed towards the back porch. The back doors' locks were broken, so a while back, his father had ghetto-rigged it with a chain and lock around the two doors' knobs so that they wouldn't open unless the padlock was off. And unfortunately for Drake, it wasn't.

"Shit!"

"You see what happens when you lock one door?" Martin was calmly standing right behind him again. "I lock all the doors."

Drake angrily pounded his fist against the door before turning around, just waiting for his father to beat the shit out of him. Mr. Parker smiled at the sight of defeat. Reasoning never worked when his dad acted like this, so he didn't even try to beg or plead. He hated degrading himself in that way anyway.

Martin grabbed Drake's shirt and yanked him into the kitchen. He shoved him across the floor, his strength actually forcing the teen to the other side of the room. When his father came towards him, he started pushing himself backwards with his elbows and heels until his back was against the basement door. With trembling fingers, he slowly pushed himself up against it until he was standing again. Once his dad was in front of him, he received a hard hit to the face. Martin then grabbed his hair and shoved his head against the refrigerator, which just located to the left of the basement, then he heavily brought his fist down upon the boy's spine.

"Ah!" Drake dropped onto his knees. He kept his head hung in defeat as he clutched the bleeding injured area.

Again, Martin brought his fist down - this time against the boy's skull. Drake fell onto his side, then clutched the back of his head. His vision was blurry, and it gave him a headache. Or maybe that was caused by his father's fist.

"Ah!" Drake yelled out when his torso was kicked by Mr. Parker's black boot. "Ah! Ahhhh! Gahh!"

Martin kicked his face a few times, causing blood to splatter from the teen's nose. Drake tried hard to block his head with his arms, but nothing seemed to work.

"Get up, you lousy piece of shit!" Martin roughly grabbed his hair and yanked him up, then shoved him against the basement door.

Drake's knees bent as he weakly attempted to hold himself up. To help him stay standing, Martin tightly grabbed the teen's neck and forced him higher until he was struggling to keep his toes on the ground. The bruised and bleeding young man tried hard to tug his father's hands away from his neck as he gasped for air.

"...can't..." Drake couldn't get anymore words out, so he mouthed the word '_breathe_' before closing his eyes.

"I hope you learned a valuable lesson from all this. Huh?!" Martin observed him and felt a tingling sensation inside when he saw Drake's fear and felt him shake in his hands. "Don't you _ever_ fucking lock that door again! Do you understand me?!"

Drake couldn't speak or nod because of the man's grip on him. He gasped for air again, then let go of a cry. He hated himself for letting that sound escape. He hated himself for giving his father the satisfaction of knowing that he was almost scared to tears.

"You're not gonna answer me?" Martin pulled Drake away, then opened the basement door. "Then go ahead and keep your door locked. We'll see if you really like it." And with that, he shoved Drake down the staircase and slammed the door shut.

* * *

><p>Drake woke up on the floor at the bottom of the basement steps. His face immediately contorted with pain as his earlier beating hit him at once. "Ah!" he hissed as he forced himself into a sitting position. "Shit!" He pushed himself up, then started up the staircase. He was hunched over with a hand clasping over his injured torso. "Ow, shit!" He stopped and rested, taking a seat for a moment. He felt tears poking at his eyes, but he forced them away, then sniffled, getting rid of any last bit of weakness that he had.<p>

Again, Drake stood, using one hand to clutch his stomach and the other to hold himself up so that he wasn't completely crawling up the steps. He was almost sure that he'd broken a rib or three. When he reached the top, he tried the knob, but of course it was locked. He banged his fist against the wood with anger.

"Dad, open the fucking door!"

And not even three seconds later, his wish was granted. Martin stood before him, still visibly drunk.

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" And then Martin shoved him hard.

Drake's eyes went wide. He reached out for his father, trying to grabbed him or at least his shirt or anything, but the man seemed to slip right through his fingertips. For the second time that day, he tumbled down the staircase, screaming with fear the whole way down. He hated falling backwards. And since he kept flipping and spinning, he couldn't tell if he was falling backwards or not, so he hated it even more.

When he reached the bottom, he hit the solid concrete with a thud, his feet still resting on stair number two. He looked up and squinted his eyes at the light shining in from upstairs, then let go of a groan.

"Don't you dare knock on this door again. Do you hear me? I'll let you out when I feel like it. _If_ I feel like it." And then Martin just slammed the door, leaving Drake in complete darkness.

* * *

><p>Drake could hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and he knew that it was Mindy coming over for their tutor session. He wondered if his dad would let him out. He knew he looked bad, what with his busted, swollen lips, black eyes, bruises, and dried blood on his face. Yet again he was "jumped by his bullies in this neighborhood." She'd believe it just like she had the last time.<p>

He faintly heard a knock at the front door, but he couldn't hear hers or his father's voices. Mr. Parker really was gonna leave him there for a while. _Son of a bitch!_ Drake could've called out to her. Surely, she'd be able to hear. But he didn't want Mindy to know about his father.

Drake leaned his back against a wall and sighed. He was dead tired. He didn't even feel like moving his legs. He wanted more Triple C's so that he could be high again. The come-down sucks. He just wanted to go back to sleep. And he would. But he really had to pee, and he first needed to find something in this pitch black basement that he could relieve himself into. Drake groaned as he pushed himself to his feet weakly, then he hissed in pain. Moving was hard enough, but now he was going to actually have to search and dig around the room in the dark. _God, this sucks._

* * *

><p>Drake was bored as fuck! There was absolutely nothing to do. He wasn't sure how long he'd been stuck down here because he'd slept a lot at odd hours, and he had no idea how long he'd slept for. It could've been ten minutes. It could've been eight hours. And he had no idea if it was night or day. He felt isolated from the world. He had no idea what was going on, and being trapped within the same walls made him feel claustrophobic. It was hot as balls down here, so he'd removed his shirt and had used it as a pillow since the floor was hard concrete. Every minute seemed to drag by because there was nothing to occupy his time with. His body ached, and he just wanted to lay down in his soft bed and snuggle under the cover with the air conditioner on full blast. And he needed a shower. He felt like he was covered in dust and cobwebs, and his hair was greasy. He had a bad taste in his mouth, and he needed to brush his teeth.<p>

Drake's stomach growled loudly. And that was the worst part. He was so hungry and _extremely_ thirsty. He desperately needed something to drink. His mouth was dry, and his throat was on fire.

What if the door had been unlocked the whole time, and his dad just hadn't said anything? He's the kind of douche bag that would pull some shit like that. Drake pushed himself up, then felt around for the staircase since his eyes still hadn't adjusted. He climbed up the steps, tired and hurting only slightly, but hurting nonetheless. He was so bored down here that there was nothing more to do than focus on his pain.

Fucking Martin had probably forgotten all about him. He hated his father. He hated his guts! How did he expect him to stay alive much longer without water? What was he trying to do? Kill him?

Drake turned the knob, but it was still locked. He furiously banged his fist on the wood. "Dad, let me out!"

A few moments later, his father's voice emanated from the other side of the wood. "Didn't I tell you to keep your trap shut?"

"I need something to drink or I'm gonna die of dehydation. Are you trying to kill me?"

"Die of dehydration? Boy, how long do you think you've been down there?"

"Like, three fucking days."

Martin chuckled. "Kid, it hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet."

Drake banged his head on the door. He could feel himself starting to get emotional. _It hasn't even been a full day yet?_ "Just let me out."

"I thought you liked hiding behind locked doors."

Drake didn't know how to respond. He sure as hell wasn't going to apologize and beg for forgiveness like his father wanted him to do. No fucking way. "Dad, this is fucking bullshit!"

"Didn't I tell you to watch that fucking mouth of yours? I'm just gonna keep you down there even longer than I planned every time you disobey me."

"How long are you gonna keep me locked in here?" Drake questioned desperately.

"That's for me to worry about."

Drake hopelessly slid his back down the wall and took a seat on the top step. "I can't fucking breathe in here."

"Stop being such a pussy."

"I'm not a pussy! I'm fucking claustrophobic! If you took the time to talk to me and actually be a fucking father, you might've already known this by now!"

"You wanna talk? We'll have plenty of time to talk when I let you out. And you can start by telling me how your dumb ass failed high school and explaining why you lied to me about it. How does that sound?"

"This is so fucking stupid!" Drake pounded his fist against the door. He was already in trouble again and had another beating lined up for him as soon as he got out of here. "I hate staying with you!"

Drake flinched when the door burst open. He jumped to his feet, then rushed down the steps backwards at the sight of his angry father. Martin didn't take long at all to catch up.

"You hate staying with me? Huh?" He swung his fist.

Drake ducked down and dodged it, then started to dash past him and up the stairs, but Martin grabbed him and slung his onto the ground. The young man looked up at him, just waiting to be kicked.

"Why?! Because I don't let you run rampant like your mother does?! Because I actually discipline you and punish you?! Is that why you hate staying here?!"

Drake didn't say anything because he didn't want to receive any kicks or punches. He pushed himself back with his elbows until his back was against the wall.

"You're lucky to have a father like me. Some dads just let their kids do whatever, and they don't even give a shit. I'm raising you right. Or at least I'm trying. But your dumb ass can't even get through school. You're gonna have a hard life ahead of you, boy, and one day, you're gonna wish I'd been even tougher on you. I wouldn't have to if you were more like your sister. But sometimes, people get dealt bad cards, and they have to do all they can in their situation. Unfortunately, I can't win them all, and the hand I've been dealt is a fucking hopeless piece of shit like you. You should be thanking me for even trying. Fucking ungrateful little bitch." Martin turned and stormed up the stairs without laying another hand on Drake. He slammed the door, almost breaking it off of its hinges, leaving Drake breathing rapidly in complete and utter darkness.

* * *

><p>Drake paced back and forth in the basement. He was about to lose it. He was about to go fucking crazy! The only thing he could think of to do to pass the time was sing, so that's what he was doing. The Beatles, of course, because The Beatles just have a way of making everything better.<p>

"_He's a real nowhere man sitting in his nowhere land, making all his nowhere plans for nobody. Doesn't have a point of view. Knows not where he's going to. Isn't he a bit like you and me? Nowhere ma-_"

Martin banged heavily on the door, causing Drake to jump out of his skin. "Cut that shit out! You've been at it for an hour, and that awful racket is giving me a migraine!"

He was used to his dad insulting his singing, so what upset him the most was being told that he's only been singing for an hour when he was sure at least three had passed by. He wished his dad would just beat the shit out of him. It's a hell of a lot better than this. This is pure torture.

* * *

><p>CHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIECHARLIE. Drake just wanted to be fucked up. He usually did Triple C's every night, and not knowing what time it was, now seemed like a pretty good time to be high. Right now, he didn't care about being hungry or thirsty or bored or lonely. All he wanted was to be high. There's nothing he hated more than not having Charlie by his side. He. Hated. Being. Sober.<p>

He wasn't in pain. Triple C's didn't do that. He wasn't even withdrawing anymore. He simply just hated thinking clearly. It was a mind thing. And he knew it. But every day between the hours of four in the afternoon to eleven at night, all he thought about was Charlie. However, he had no idea what time it was, so it was just constantly on his mind the whole fucking time. They were best friends. Drake sometimes even thought of themselves as lovers. No girl has ever done Drake as good as Charlie has. He knew he sounded like a fucking mental person. That's why he kept these thoughts inside. That's why he started lying to his friends about his drug use. They wouldn't understand.

Drake curled up on his side, after readjusting his thin tee that was balled up under his head. God, this floor was so uncomfortable. It wouldn't be half bad down here if he had Charlie here to keep him company.

* * *

><p>Drake knew people couldn't go without water for over three days, but he swore he'd been locked in the basement for a week. He couldn't have been any happier when his father finally opened the door.<p>

"Come up here. We're gonna have a talk."

Drake grabbed his shirt, then pushed himself to his feet with a groan. He climbed the steps, then followed his father into the living room, where he was shoved onto the couch.

"Well, did you have fun?" Martin asked. He didn't expect the teen to reply, so he didn't wait for an answer. "I just wanna make it clear that you better not lock your bedroom door again. Do you understand me?"

Drake kept his head low. He hated having to look up to his father and please him to avoid a beating. It wasn't really like him to do that. But when Martin grabbed his chin and forced him to meet his eyes, which were only inches from his own, he was given no choice.

"I said, do you understand?"

"Yes," Drake spat quietly, pushing aside the pain he felt as his father's fingertips dug into his skin.

Mr. Parker let him go. "So you failed math? Doesn't really surprised me. Actually, I'm shocked that it's all you failed."

Drake looked to his right while still keeping his head low. He had his arms crossed over his chest.

"If you can't get through the first eighteen years of your life, how the hell do you expect to make it out there? What, do you plan on being that guy who lives with his parents and has a shitty part-time job? Huh? Well, let me tell you something. I'll be damned if you're gonna stay at my house and have me take care of you forever."

"You don't even take care of me now," Drake muttered.

"What was that?"

The young man didn't say another word.

"Listen here, boy. You're walking a very thin line with me right now. You better watch it."

"Are we done?"

Martin looked at him hard although Drake didn't see it, then he left the room. The young man shook his head with anger, then got up and went to the bathroom. He wiped off any leftover dried blood from his face, then brushed his teeth. After that, he went to his room and grabbed a beanie, then went out the front door. Food, water, a shower, clean clothes, a nice, long, comfy sleep - those could all wait a little longer. Only Charlie could make him feel better right now. He was the only one that was ever really there for him.

* * *

><p>It had been a long ass walk to the store. He'd stolen three boxes, then he'd went to a nearby McDonald's, asked for a free water, and locked himself in one of the bathroom stalls. He couldn't wait another two and a half hour walk to take them, then another hour for them to kick in. The walk would be less boring if he was high for most of it. So here he was, a little over an hour away from home, high as fuck. Okay, so he'd taken all the boxes at once. That's nothing to him, really. It's half a box greater than his average intake. And somehow, he'd managed not to throw up! He was thankful for the dark night above him because he knew that he was stumbling something awful. God, he'd missed this. It was kinda scary, though, being outside, because the sky had disappeared, and he feared that he would fall over into the blackness above him and drift away and be lost forever. He knew that it was logically impossible, but he still clutched his toes together tightly as he walked as if trying hard to keep a grip on the ground just in case.<p>

"Drake? Where have you been?"

He hadn't noticed John Lennon's car pull up beside him. He looked at him with confusion.

"What the hell happened to you?"

He didn't speak. He had no idea what to say. He just stopped and stared. This whole thing was tripping him out.

"Did you get jumped again?" Mindy could just barely see his black eyes in the darkness. She wondered why he was being so strange and silent. "Are you okay?"

"John Lennon's dead."

"Yeah..." Mindy watched him sketchily. "I came over to your house a couple days ago to tutor you, but you weren't there."

"Son of a bitch," Drake whispered to himself. "I'm being tutored by John mother fucking Lennon."

"Are you...are you on something?" Mindy asked.

Drake smiled and closed his eyes. He wore a peaceful look on his face. "Yeah..."

Mindy got out of the car, then walked around and opened her passenger's side door. "Come on. I'll take you home."

"Oh, shit. Mindy, I was tripping out so hard for a second there."

"I know. Watch your head." She reached over and secured him into his seatbelt, then shut the door and got back in the driver's seat.

"Why the fuck isn't this playing?"

"What do you want? The radio? You're messing with the air conditioner. Stop." She turned on some music, then Drake managed to turn it to a classic rock station, where Pink Floyd's _Hey You_ was playing.

The ride to Drake's house was mostly silent except for the radio since the young man was in his own head for most of the time. He looked like he was enjoying himself, Mindy noticed. Sometimes, he'd mumble under his breath or tell her things that he'd just hallucinated. But it really made no sense at all to her. She wasn't sure how she felt about the whole situation to be honest. She wasn't mad. She was just worried. She had no idea if he was supposed to be acting this way or not, but Drake had assured her that he was experienced and knew the dos and don'ts. And it was kind of amusing a little when she could actually make out what he was saying.

"I think I'm sorry," Drake said suddenly.

"What?" Mindy asked with confusion.

"I can't remember if you were supposed to see me like this. I don't think you were supposed to be put in the baby-sitting position. Please, just don't tell my dad. He'll beat the shit out of me."

Mindy didn't take his last sentence literally and, therefore, didn't put two and two together to realize that Drake had never really gotten jumped. "I'm not gonna tell your dad. Do you think you'll be able to sneak back in without being noticed?"

"I guess we'll find out."

"Should I take you to my house?"

Drake was staring straight ahead. He didn't reply.

"Drake?"

"Hmm?"

"Should we go to my house?"

"I mean, if we're gonna fuck, I think my house is a safer bet."

"What? That's not even what I'm..." She didn't even care to continue. Mindy just drove to Drake's house. She turned off her headlights before pulling into the driveway. "We're here," she announced.

"Hmm?" Drake opened his eyes, but he couldn't see straight.

"We're here."

"Where?"

"Your house."

"Shit." Drake rubbed his eyes as if he was tired. "What time is it?"

"Nine forty-five."

"Damn it."

"What?"

"I don't know." Drake opened the door. "Thanks. For the ride. I don't really remember it, but I'm sure we had really swell conversations."

"Did you just say _swell_?"

"You wanna come inside and hang? Smoke some weed? Or just chill?"

For some reason, Mindy had this feeling that he wouldn't really be responsive for a while. "I think I'm just gonna head home."

"Aw." He seemed genuinely disappointed, which flattered Mindy. "Okay then. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Well, I have a feeling that we'll have a lot of ground to cover when we hit the books since you've been ignoring my texts for the last few days."

Drake frowned, then got out of the car. "See you then, Min." He smiled at his own rhyme.

Mindy chuckled. "Whatever, loser. Good luck with your dad."

"Yeah." He shut the door, then watched her back out of the driveway. "I'm gonna need it."


	5. New Friends

Drake's father had been passed out in his room last night, so the young man had no problem sneaking in. He'd stayed up until two-thirty writing songs, reorganizing his room, and watching A Clockwork Orange, which a friend had lent to him, saying that it was a must-see for anyone who loved drug-culture films. Drake had "viddied" several different of these and other trippy movies, his favorite being Across The Universe, of course. Some were just fun, especially the musicals, while other, lower-budget films made him think and trip _the fuck_ out, like Purgatory House. He usually watched the same ones on repeat because he felt like they were telling him something different every time. If you went through his DVD shelf, you would find _Requiem For A Dream_, _Trainspotting_, _The Basketball Diaries_, _RENT_, _Party Monster_, _The Butterfly Effect_, the _Final Destination_ series, and _The Science Of Sleep_ because what the actual fuck is going on in that movie? One day, he was going to watch it sober and figure it out. One day.

Besides watching movies, listening to music was what he did most while he was high. Triple C's definitely gave him a connection with it that he was never able to explain, nor did he care to. Besides The Beatles and the many other obvious classic rock drug music, he loved listening to Breathe Carolina's "_Hell Is What You Make It_," Cage The Elephant's "_Melophobia_," and Miley Cyrus' "_Bangerz_," which he normally would never listen to when you take his taste in music genres into account.

Drake reached his hand out from under his comforter and grabbed his cell phone. _10:41_. He hadn't expected to have woken up so early. If he'd just recently came off of Triple C's, he'd wake up late the next couple of times he'd do them. When he did them consecutively, though, he was still slightly feeling the disorientation brought on by them until the next afternoon. So when he'd do them every night, he never had to deal with coming down. He was always in an altered state of mind even when he wasn't high. Life was kind of like a dream. That's one of the many things that he loved about Charlie.

There's so much time left in his day. He'd pretty much planned on only getting out of bed for his tutor session, but although he'd only done Triple C's once since his last come-down, he still had numb lips and a disoriented, heavy feeling. Waking up still high, whether greatly or just barely, was the best, and it always put a smile on Drake's face on those glorious mornings. However, he knew that his withdrawals (basically just extreme tiredness and fatigue) would start at around two or so. Therefore, he needed more to keep him awake for a while so that he could actually do something with his day.

Drake slid part of his phone upwards, then started typing on the keypad.

_**Drake: bord af wanna go 2 mall lter or sumthin**_

Drake stretched, then pushed the comforter off of himself and sat up. He definitely needed to shower. Triple C's always gave him a layer of sweat, which was strange because he always felt cold for some reason and wore a jacket.

_**Stevie: y dnt u ask ur new gf?**_

**_Drake: wut_**

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Was he talking about Mindy? Was Stevie mad at him about something?

Drake waited for a response, but he never got one, so he decided to call his friend. He started to think that Stevie wouldn't pick up after the fifth ring, but then he heard his tired, strained voice.

"Hello?"

"What do you mean my new girlfriend?"

It was obvious to Drake the Stevie was half-asleep by the way he was talking. "Well, the last I talked to you, you told me to go fuck myself. And then you've ignored me and all the other guys for days now because you're so stuck up her ass."

Drake couldn't tell him the truth and say he'd been locked in the basement by his father. "She's just been tutoring me in math. I failed, and I gotta take another test to graduate, and she was assigned to me. There's nothing going on between us."

"I thought you two were lovers," he spat. "She was your date to that party a few nights ago."

"I mean, she was having a rough day. I felt bad, so I invited her. And nobody really likes her, so I just hung out with her so she wasn't alone."

"Whatever. You two looked pretty cozy when you were laying next to her on the hammock."

"So what if we were hanging out? She's my brother's girlfriend. I'm not gonna do anything with her. She's spending her summer helping me to graduate, and I feel like I owe her something."

"I don't even care if you like her. But ignoring your best bros for some chick-"

"It wasn't like that," Drake tried.

"Julio booked us a last minute gig at his cousin's sweet sixteen. We had to cancel because _you_ wouldn't text us back. You didn't even tell us _no_. You just completely ignored us."

"Why couldn't you guys do it without me?"

"The fuck are we gonna do without vocals and lead guitar, Drake? We're a band. We're supposed be in this together."

Drake sighed. "I can see why I look like a total asshole. But it's not my fault."

"Whose is it then?"

Drake didn't have an answer. Well, he did. It was his fucking father's fault. But he couldn't tell him that.

"Look, I gotta go."

"Come on, man. Stevie-"

Drake was cut off by a dialtone. He groaned with frustration. His dad ruins everything! _What a fucking dickhead!_

So he did the only thing that was left. He texted Mindy.

_**Drake: wut time r. We getting togeter 2day**_

After he sent the message, he got up and went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth first, then reached behind the shower curtain and turned the water on.

_**Mindy: Any time after five probably. I have to stay at home and wait for the cable man to fix the TV.**_

Drake set his phone down, stripped out of his clothes, then got into the shower. So today was just gonna be a boring day. No fucking way. He wasn't staying home and waiting for his father to wake up in a pissy mood. He was going to meet up with Charlie, then arrive at his tutor's house unexpectedly. If she had to wait on the cable guy, then her parents wouldn't be home. And he sure as hell didn't want to be here. He hated it here: his father, the quiet, lonely atmosphere, the boredom. He was desperate for something different.

* * *

><p>Long-distance walks were the best times for "Charlie adventures." Mindy actually lived a lot closer to the main part of the city where the businesses resided than he did, but it was still a good distance away on foot. He'd brought his bookbag this time. It held his math book, which he'd proudly thought about grabbing before leaving his house. It also contained a few new boxes of Triple C's. He'd skipped breakfast, so of course he had to make up for it with an appetizing meal, he reasoned. Drake had only taken half of a box. He wasn't looking to get fucked up. He just didn't want to come down. Those eight pills had given him a good high, but he would still be able to be responsive and aware. It's better this way. If he hadn't taken them, he'd be too exhausted physically and mentally to stay awake and listen.<p>

Drake climbed the porch steps, concentrating on keeping his balance as he ascended. Next, he rung the doorbell. He waited for what felt like forever, but he didn't really notice because he got lost staring at a hanging plant and thinking way too much about the person who invented it, the motive he had, and what his childhood home life was like.

"Drake?"

"Hey."

She looked at him with confusion, waiting for an explanation for why he was standing at her doorstep.

"I was out walking, and I figured that, you know, I'd just stop by and keep you company while you wait for the cable guy. I mean, since you're probably really bored just waiting here alone."

"Gee, how thoughtful of you." She wasn't buying it, so Drake came clean.

"Okay, I'm just so bored that I'm gonna die. And there's nothing to do at my house. And my friends are pissed at me. Will you entertain me out of pity?" He gave her a puppy dog pout that most girls couldn't resist.

Mindy rolled her eyes, then held the door open. "I didn't know tutoring you would be a full-time job."

Drake smiled and stepped inside. "I require a lot of maintenance."

"_Require_? _Maintenance_? Have you been reading a dictionary?"

"I told you I was bored," Drake joked.

Mindy laughed, then said, "Well, there's nothing like good ol' math to cure boredom."

"I've been so bored, I would pay to be given an algebra problem to solve."

"I will definitely take you up on that offer," Mindy said. "But I'm actually Skyping Josh right now."

"Oh, cool. I'm gonna be a douche bag and invite myself to your virtual date then."

"We're just chatting." She led him into the dining room, where her laptop was set up. She took a seat in her chair, and Josh smiled on the screen.

"Was that the cable guy?" he questioned.

"No. You won't even believe who it was."

"Who?"

Drake had grabbed a chair, and was now carrying it around the table. He placed it next to Mindy's, then took a seat. "Hey, Joshypoo."

"Drake? Hey. How's it going?"

"You know. It's going."

"What happened to you?" The quality wasn't too great, but Josh could see that his brother's eyes were black and he had bruises on his face.

Drake averted his eyes and looked down at his lap, his leg bouncing up and down. "Nothing. Mindy beat me up."

"I believe that." He laughed and decided to bring the subject up later via phone call. He figured that his step-brother would be more open when Mindy wasn't around.

"How are things at your dad's?"

"Great." Drake needed to get the attention off of himself. "What about you? Are you having fun?"

"Yeah. Tons." Josh didn't want to go into detail because he knew his brother hated missing out. "Not to brag or anything. How's the tutoring going? Mindy told me that you were doing awesome."

"Yeah, up until the time you completely avoided me," Mindy chimed in.

"Yeah, something just came up. But I think I'm doing good."

"Doing _well_," Mindy corrected.

Drake rolled his eyes. "Josh, I don't know how the hell you put up with her."

"You have to have selective hearing when you're around her."

"Hey!" Mindy exclaimed.

"I'm just kidding. I love you."

"I'm sorry. What'd you say? I couldn't hear you. I chose to opt out of what you were saying."

"Touch**é**." Josh laughed. "Man, I wish I could be there with you guys."

"Aw. You're not having fun there?" Mindy said. "My poor pookiebear."

"No, it's great. I just miss being with you guys."

"I miss you, too."

"But once I get back, we're gonna go out. Just me and you."

"I can't wait. I miss your kisses."

Josh smiled, looking at Drake. He expected a disgusted expression, but it wasn't there. "You're looking a little focused there, Drake."

The young man suddenly snapped back into reality at the sound of his name. "Huh? Oh, um...yeah. Just, you know, mentally preparing myself for math."

"Good for you. What have you two been doing? Mindy said you two hung out a couple times?"

"Oh, you know. Partying. Getting high. The usual."

Mindy's jaw dropped open. _No fucking way did he just say that._

Josh chuckled. "Yeah, because Mindy's such a stoner."

"She really is. I swear."

Josh laughed. "Well, look. We're all going to the grocery store to pick up some things. I gotta go."

"See ya," Drake said.

"Bye," Josh replied. "Love you, Mindy."

"Love you more."

"No, _I_ love you more." Drake moved closer to the lens, hogging the camera so that Mindy could barely be seen. He blew a kiss. "Bye, pookiebear."

Josh retaliated by giving a cute wink to Drake and biting his bottom lip. "See you tonight, tiger."

Drake growled seductively.

"Oh my god," Mindy said, her eyes wide with shock. "Boys are so weird." After Josh's face disappeared, she shut her laptop, then turned to Drake. "How could you tell him that?!"

Drake's smile disappeared. _What was she mad about again?_ "Tell him what?"

"That I'm a stoner."

"Well, I mean, don't you feel bad for hiding it from him? At least this way, if he ever found out for real, you could say that I told him, and he'd just assumed that I was lying. Now you have a clear conscience. You're welcome."

Mindy just rolled her eyes. "You're unbelievable."

He smiled. "Aw, thanks." Drake stood, then left the dining room. He ascended the staircase that was directly to his right, stumbling slightly. "Shit," he muttered under his breath.

"Where are you going...?" Mindy got out of her seat and followed him. "The bathroom's the second door on the left."

"Which one's your room?"

"What? Why?"

"You've seen mine."

Mindy caught up to him. "It's that one." She reached it first, then opened the door. She led him inside.

It was a large room with white walls. The color scheme was pink and orange, and the queen-sized bed sported a flower design. She had a huge flat screen television hanging right above her dresser on one wall. She had a vanity mirror next to her computer desk by the door. And on the opposide wall was a fireplace, which was surrounded by two windows and had a large skylight above it. To the left of that was the glass door to her balcony. The door to her walk-in closet was open, so he could see all of the designer clothes her parents bought her that she just never wore because she wanted to fit in.

"Well, shit," Drake said, looking around.

Mindy closed the closet, then examined his facial expression. "People usually never come up here. Josh hasn't even been in my room much because my parents have this thing about boys being in the same room with me and a bed. I don't know."

Drake looked at her with an amused grin, and Mindy's cheeks went hot with embarrassment. The young man then continued observing every little thing that he could while walking towards the bed, then he plopped down on it. He met eyes with her again. "So what happened when you got back home? I didn't mean to fall asleep the other night."

"What, like, three or four days ago? Well, there was a huge argument, but of course my parents are too stubborn to listen to what I have to say, so I just locked myself in my room." Mindy took a seat in her swirling computer chair. "Here's a question: Where have you been these past few days? Your dad said you weren't home, and then you ignored all of my texts."

"I was at a friend's. I stayed there for a while. I don't know. I didn't want you to see me like this. I didn't want you to know that he beat the shit out of me again. My dad was so pissed."

"He? So it's just one guy? What did your dad do when he found out that you were being bullied?"

Drake's heart skipped a beat. He'd basically just told her the truth, and she just wasn't seeing it. "No, I meant '_they_.' My dad was pretty upset about it."

"And you ignored me because you didn't want me to see you like this?" Mindy questioned.

"Yeah, I guess. Let's just not talk about it."

"Okay. Would you rather talk about last night?"

"Hmm?"

"Did your dad say anything when you got home?"

"Why would he?"

Mindy looked at him as if he was stupid. "Because you were high as a kite."

"How do you - shit, you totally gave me a ride, didn't you?" Drake had completely forgotten about that. "No, my dad didn't say shit."

"You're lucky it was me and not a police officer. You almost stumbled out in front of my car. And your words were slurring a lot." Mindy picked up a pencil off of the computer desk and started twirling it around her fingers out of boredom. "I always knew that you drank and probably smoked pot, but I honestly never expected this from you. That was really careless."

"I know," Drake said, using false guilt in his voice. "I just - I had a really bad past couple of days, and I was so bored, and it was a one-time thing."

Mindy had heard the excuses that addicts give, and she knew not to believe them. But it was different when they came out of Drake's mouth. He wasn't an addict, she thought. Just an experimentor.

"You're not gonna tell my dad or Josh, are you?"

"No. Your secret's safe with me. Just be safer and more careful next time."

"Yeah, of course." Drake looked down at his lap. "Did I freak you out?"

"Kind of. I mean, I don't know a lot about any of this. What was it you were on? The cold and cough medicine from the other night? What was it called?"

"Triple C's. Yeah, I totally suck for putting you in that situation. Sorry," Drake apologized meekly, then let go a breath of air. "Anyway, let's get started on this math."

"You're bringing up your math work before I am?" Mindy was shocked.

"I mean, if I don't pass, I'm gonna be so fucked. So yeah. Let's do it."

Mindy stood and walked over to him, then she pressed her thumb against his forehead for a second. "Gold star."

After that, she grabbed two pencils and some paper. Drake had undoubtably forgotten those. The two headed downstairs and went back into the dining room. Drake grabbed his backpack out of a chair and pulled out his math book.

"So hey, what are you doing tonight?" Drake asked.

"I don't know. But I have a feeling you're about to tell me."

"Cool. Well, there's this cool bar, and Julio's older brother actually owns it, so he lets me drink. And I was just gonna ask if-"

"I'd love to go. Sounds like fun."

"I was just asking for a ride..."

"Oh..." Mindy looked at him and could tell that he was joking by the huge grin on his face. "You're so mean!"

Drake laughed. "But for real, though. And I mean, maybe text Rhinestone and invite him. He seemed cool. And you definitely need some help getting dressed. I mean, look at all of those clothes in your closet. I'm sure we'll find something great in there."

"I do have to give Rhinestone that dress back. I wonder if his boyfriend has noticed it's absence." Mindy pulled out her cell phone.

"Just see if he wants to come over in, like, a few hours or so."

"Okay." Mindy tapped on her keypad.

_**Mindy: Are you busy later? Do you want to go to a bar with me and Drake? You can bring Gemini.**_

"God, I fucking hate math's guts," Drake said.

It was clear to Mindy that just opening the book and looking at the pages made Drake lose hope that he'd ever pass.

"It's so fucking stupid."

"Stop being so negative. You can do this. Make Josh proud."

"I _could've_ been relaxing at my aunt's lakehouse right now," Drake said. "God, I suck."

"Yeah," Mindy agreed, then the two laughed.

**_Rhinestone Bitch 3: Fukk yesss! Ooh double date! I told u he had the hots for u gurrll!_**

_**Mindy: Drake and I are just friends! Barely! Can you come over a little earlier and work your make-up magic?**_

Drake squinted at her. "What are you smiling about?"

"Rhinestone's just being weird. He's coming. He's gonna bring his boyfriend."

"Cool. Okay. Let's get to this math."

**_Rhinestone Bitch 3: Make overs! Of course sweetie! This is gonna be so much fun! Can't wait!_**

"Okay. I'm just gonna give him my address. He should be here by, what? Six."

"Whatever."

Drake wasn't the type to really make plans. When it happens, it happens. He didn't want to get to the bar too early because it just seemed funner after nine.

Mindy sent her friend the address, then set her phone down. "Your favorite time of day! Math time!"

* * *

><p>"Thanks a lot," Mindy said before shutting the door behind the cable guy. She went back into the dining room, where Drake was rubbing his hand through his hair. "How far did you get?" She looked at the paper. "Yikes."<p>

"I think I'm just gonna fucking drop out. I don't get it."

"Why don't we take a break and come back to it tomorrow?" Mindy closed the book.

"Yeah." Drake stood, grabbing his bag. "Where'd you say the bathroom was?"

"Next to the staircase." She pointed.

Drake found it with ease. He locked himself inside, then opened the medicine cabinet, searching for only a moment before he found Tylenol. He grabbed the bottle, twisted the cap off, then poured two onto his palm. He tossed them into his mouth, then grabbed a small paper cup covered with an ugly pastel floral design, and he filled it with water, then he swallowed the pills down.

After that, Drake set his bookbag down and grabbed an already open box of Triple C's, which had eight pills left that he'd already cut out of the package. He refilled his cup of water, tipped the box over his mouth, and let the red pills pour out onto his tongue. He quickly chased them down his throat. He hated letting them rest on his tastebuds. They ruin them. Sometimes he'd be drinking a Dr. Pepper, and he would get the taste of Triple C's in his mouth. It was the worst thing ever, but it was because he used to swallow the pills with Dr. Pepper. It was probably just a mind thing, but he could even taste them in water, so he avoided it when he wasn't chasing pills down his throat.

Drake hadn't planned on taking more Triple C's today. He'd had plans to go to the bar since his mall plans had been a no-go, and he knew that alcohol and Triple C's shouldn't mix. But he wasn't feeling much of the high anymore, and he really needed a mental boost because of that math had made him feel down. So he wouldn't drink much, which was fine. No more than three beers. Therefore, he wouldn't be drunk, and by the time they left, he wouldn't be high either, so he could be the designated driver.

Drake put the empty medicine box back in his bag quickly. He knew that, even if he wasn't high yet, he hadn't one hundred percent felt sober. He'd once taken pills, then had gotten out of bed to vomit an hour later and came back to find the cut up packages just laying in plain sight on his bed. You definitely weren't high when you first swallowed them, but if you had done them a few hours or so before, you were still not thinking too clearly even if you thought you were.

Even though he'd just hidden the box inside of his bag, Drake double-checked to make sure. He could never be too sure, and he definitely didn't want Mindy or her parents to find it in their bathroom. Drake made sure everything was put away, then he opened the door and found Mindy in the kitchen. He was careful to hide the disgust he felt from the pills.

"Are you hungry or thirsty?" She was making a sandwich.

"No, I'm fine." Drake lifted himself up onto the counter, then kicked his legs back and forth as he sat. "When are your parents coming back home?"

"I don't know. They're out doing a bunch of things to get the divorce finalized." She had a bitterness in her voice.

Drake looked down at his lap. "What did Josh say when you told him?"

"He felt bad and all. But I just don't think he understood why I'm so upset about it."

"I'm sure he's just been used to the idea of not having his mom around. He probably forgot how he felt since his parents got divorced a long time ago."

"What about you? How long have your parents been divorced?" Mindy questioned. She put the peanut butter and jelly jars away, then leaned against the counter and took a bite of her sandwich, looking at Drake.

"Um, since I was twelve."

"Were you upset?"

"I really didn't understand what was going on. I didn't know exactly what divorce meant."

Drake's father didn't start drinking heavily until after the divorce, and he'd never abused his son before the boy was thirteen. They used to actually bond and have fun together. It just wasn't that way anymore. Drake and his sister didn't have certain days or any particular schedule telling them when they'd stay with their father. When Drake was with Megan, he didn't mind it _too_ much. Mr. Parker didn't dare to touch him when she was around. It was just those times that he visited his dad alone. That's when he got hurt.

"Do you know why they decided to get a divorce?" Drake tried to touch on the subject lightly. "Or you don't wanna talk about it?"

"My mom's not happy here. She's miserable, in fact. And she makes everyone around her miserable, too."

"Then maybe it's better this way?"

Mindy's eyebrows furrowed with anger. "It's better for her to leave her daughter alone and move too far away to visit often?!"

"Sorry." Drake looked down, realizing he'd struck a nerve. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what _did_ you mean?"

"I don't know." Drake shrugged and spoke with a quiet voice. "If she makes everyone else unhappy, too... I mean, I wouldn't be all that upset if I never saw _my_ dad again."

Mindy didn't say anything. She looked at him as if she'd seen a new side of him that she hadn't expected.

Drake gave off an awkward, nervous chuckle. "I don't know why I said that."

Mindy opened her mouth and was about to begin some sort of personal interrogation that Drake didn't quite want to touch on, but she was stopped short when the door bell rang. She left the kitchen with Drake following behind her, then opened the door.

"Hey, Rhinestone!"

"Hey, girl, hey!" Rhinestone grabbed her hands, then leaned in and kissed both of her cheeks. Next, he looked at Drake, and a grin appeared on his face. "Well, don't you just have the prettiest eyes."

Gemini would've been jealous if he hadn't picked up on the way Rhinestone meant it.

_Shit_, Drake thought. _They totally fucking know that I'm on Triple C's._ The sunlight is shining through the door, yet Drake's eyes were still dilated as fuck

"Your eyes are bluer than I remember," Drake retaliated.

Rhinestone's pupils were tiny points in the two blue pools. Way smaller than normal in the sunlight. And Drake knew that look well. Meth. A.K.A. Timethy. Moral of the story: Drake absolutely _loves_ making up codewords!

Rhinestone grinned and spoke after a moment, knowing that the teen knew. "You trip me out, Drake. I think we'll get along just fine."

The two had a mutual agreement to keep quiet about each other's states of being. Drake didn't want Mindy to know, and Rhinestone didn't want Gemini to know. And honestly, neither really cared what the other did. They both understood addiction well enough, and it was obvious to both that the other had been using for a good little minute. Drake didn't look too obvious since he'd been sober the whole time he was locked in the basement, so the circles under his eyes weren't too dark. However, Rhinestone's looks screamed meth head. His cheeks were sunken in, his face was broken out, and his body was tiny and frail as if it would snap in two if treated without care.

"You must be Gemini," Mindy held out her hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

Drake nodded his head in agreement, curious as to how Gemini knew the Triple C look and not the meth look. He certainly didn't look like he was on drugs of any sort.

Mindy led everyone inside and up the stairs after letting go of Gemini's smooth hands. She usually didn't let strangers into her house, but she really didn't care anymore. It seemed normal to Drake, and she felt that maybe she was starting to trust him. He seemed more experienced about these sorts of things. Plus, he'd showed her how to smoke weed and drink and enjoy herself at a party. It was as if _he_ was, in fact, _he_r tutor and not the other way around. Mindy felt as though he would protect her from doing something stupid or going too far or just doing something wrong since he knew more about this sort of scene.

"_This_ is your room?! Girl, I love it! I mean, it could use a lot more decor, but it's very chic!" Rhinestone smiled. "Now..." He opened what he correctly assumed was her closet, and his jaw dropped open. He walked in and started looking through the racks that lined the three walls. "Damn. You got your own store in here. Half of this shit still has the receipt on them."

"I don't really go out much to wear any of that."

"We could tell," Gemini mumbled.

He wasn't being rude, but he wasn't joking either. Mindy didn't take offense to his words.

Drake sat down at the foot of the bed, then lean back and rested on his elbows. Helping a girl choose an outfit wasn't exactly his strong point, so he was going to leave that up to the two more feminine guys.

"OHMYGOD! I have got to try this on!" Gemini held up a pink and black dress in front of himself, then looked in the mirror. "Damn it! I should've brought my heels!" He didn't even go to the bathroom. He just pulled off his shirt, then unzipped his jeans and took them off.

Drake looked away. He didn't want to stare and give off any wrong ideas. He had nothing against gay people as long as they didn't push hard to change his sexuality.

"Zip this for me, sweetie." Gemini was now turned around in front of Drake, who did as he was asked, his finger accidentally grazing across the boy's skin a few times. Gemini giggled.

"Hey, you better not be putting the moves on my man, Drake," Rhinestone said.

Drake removed his hands and held them up innocently. "I wasn't." He could see then that Rhinestone had been joking and had known that Drake was as straight as they come.

Gemini was examining himself in the mirror. "Hmm..." He turned to one side, then to the other, then back again. "What do you think, Drake?"

"Um..." Drake definitely thought it was different. He'd never met someone who was into drag before, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. "The important question is what do you think?"

Gemini sighed, picking up on Drake's unsureness on how to answer the question. "Babe? Babe, what do you think of this?" He went into the closet, where Rhinestone was shoving dress after dress after skirt after dress into Mindy's hands.

"It's a beautiful dress."

Gemini frowned, then went back to his mirror, checking it again. It was obvious to Drake that Rhinestone felt just like he did about Gemini doing drag. Just because Rhinestone was gay, it didn't mean he understood dressing up like a girl. An occasional girl tee, girl make-up, girl jewelry, girl shoes - yeah, okay. But the whole "dresses and wigs" thing was kind of strange to him, too.

Drake started to feel bad, though. Gemini didn't look bad at all. He could totally pull the dress off. It was just weird since he wasn't a girl.

"You look great," Drake said.

"Really?" Gemini's shoulders dropped with an unsure sigh.

"Yeah. You totally rock the look."

Gemini smiled giddily, his white cheeks turning red as he blushed. He went back into the closet. "Mindy, can I borrow this dress?"

"Sure. You can keep it if you want."

"Really?!"

"Yeah. I never even wear it."

"Oh my god! This is awesome!"

* * *

><p>Drake was still resting on his elbows, but now Gemini was next to him. He was laying on his back with his head at the foot of the bed, facing Drake. He'd gone through Mindy's closet, and was finished trying things on. However, Rhinestone felt as though he needed to see what Mindy looked like in EVERY. SINGLE. OUTFIT.<p>

"Drake's your first name?" Gemini questioned.

"It's Jared." The boy shook his head with a chuckle. "Lame, right?"

"Try Benjamin. My dad calls me Jimmy."

"Jimmy. Gemini. I get it. That's clever. What's Rhinestone's real name?"

"Tarence."

The two laughed.

"So you're...twen...?" Gemini changed his prediction when Drake shook his head. "Nine...?"

"Eighteen."

"Oh. So you just graduated from high school then."

Drake didn't reply. Since Gemini had just assumed, he technically hadn't lied. "And you?"

"Twenty-one."

"You graduated high school?"

"I did a few years ago, yeah. And now I'm in cosmetology school."

"How's that?"

"Harder than you probably think, but I like it." Gemini squinted at him curiously. "You're the first person that I've ever told my age to who didn't say anything about me buying them beer."

"You kinda sound like you have a lot of insecurities about why people become friends with you." Drake chuckled, then stopped when he saw that Gemini wasn't smiling. Maybe he shouldn't have said that? What exactly did he even say? He couldn't even remember since his high had hit. "I mean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about it for a second."

Gemini knew that Drake hadn't meant to tease him about his insecurities because he could tell that the boy was high. "So how long have you been doing Triple C's?"

Drake looked away, thankful that Mindy was in the bathroom getting her make-up done by Rhinestone.

"I used to do them with Rhinestone. He was really bad on them." Gemini wasn't exactly sure how to say what he was thinking. "You kinda have that look. No offense."

"Yeah," Drake admitted quietly, looking down slightly to hide his eyes.

"They're really dangerous. Burn holes in your brain. Make you forget a lot," Gemini said. "Not that I'm trying to persuede you to stop. You can do what you want. But I just didn't like Rhinestone doing them, so he quit for me."

Drake didn't know what to say. Did Gemini _really_ not see that Rhinestone was totally geeking right now? Maybe he was just blinded by love, or he just didn't want to believe it. Surely anyone could see it, right? Maybe Mindy even knows.

"I think what I'm trying to say is that I would appreciate if you didn't, you know, ask him to..."

Drake understood. "Yeah. No, I won't."

"I know it's fun doing them with new people because you get that connection with someone new. I just don't want him to get back to that point again. I know I sound like a complete bossy, over-protective boyfriend."

"No, it's fine. Don't worry about it," Drake reassured. "I mean, if he started doing them again, then there'd be less for me. They only put so many on the shelves at once."

Drake was right. Sometimes they put out five, and on rare occasions, they'd put ten or so and have the shelf fully stocked. But those go by super quickly when you use between two and three boxes a day on average. That's hardly a week's worth. The worst times were when the shelves were empty for up to two weeks. Drake would, especially at his dad's, just lay around pissed off all the time, but checking the store frequently at all hours of the day and night to see if they'd restocked. There were, of course, a few other places where he could find them, but those were usually out, too. It was hard to get them during the summer, around Chrismas Eve, and on the Fourth Of July. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe not. But really, though, does anyone _actually_ use them for their medical purpose?

Gemini smiled, sure that Drake wouldn't pressure Rhinestone, then he rolled onto his stomach and looked up as his boyfriend opened the bathroom door and held it so that Mindy could step out. Gemini started clapping and cheering, causing the girl to blush. Drake was, as always, moving his eyes down her body with a dropped jaw.

She wore a forest green, sequined tank top, which wasn't cut too low this time. She also sported a cute brown skirt, which matched the earth tones of her make-up.

"Drake?" Rhinestone questioned with a smile.

He lifted his eyes away from her body. "Looks great."

"Mm-hmm." Rhinestone grinned mischeivously at him.

"So are we ready to go?" Gemini looked out the window and saw that it was dark. He could've looked at the clock, but he preferred mother nature.

"Drake, if you'll just let me touch you up a little-" Rhinestone tried.

"No!" The boy stood, then stumbled slightly. He dizzily sat back down.

"You okay?" Mindy questioned with a furrowed brow.

He tried hard to keep his words from slurring. "Just got up too fast."

Rhinestone and Gemini knew the truth however, but neither said anything about it.

Gemini spoke. "Are we all riding together, or...?"

"We could take my car," Mindy offered.

"Great. Shotgun!" Rhinestone called. He led the way out, and the girl followed.

Gemini stood, then helped Drake stand and steady himself. "You good?"

"Amazing." The boy smiled.

Gemini went first so that he'd be able to catch Drake if he were to start falling down the stairs, but the young man was used to the blurred vision and knowing how to act normal, so he balanced himself along the wall easily.

"You drink, right?" Drake asked.

"Of course. Why?"

"Well, I want you to have fun, too, you know. I'll be sober by the time we leave, so you can drink if you wanna."

"Oh, good. For a while, I thought I was just invited along to be the DD."

"Wow, you do have some insecurities, don't you?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"I guess. Hold on. I gotta grab something." Drake went into the dining room, grabbed his bookbag, and tossed it over his shoulder. He then regrouped with Gemini and followed him outside, where Rhinestone and Mindy were waiting in the two front seats. Rhinestone was blasting a CD he'd found in the girl's car: Lady Gaga's _Art Pop._ The current song playing was called "_Swine_."

"Oh, God," Drake said, unsatisfied with the music choice as he climbed into the car.

But the ride was actually fun. Rhinestone and Gemini sung at the top of their lungs while dancing obnoxiously to the beat. And Drake sure as hell wasn't going to be the boring Billy of the group. It was easy to follow along since he was too high to care what he was doing. He knew a lot of the words from the radio, but he'd just make up the ones he didn't know.

When that song was over, Mindy turned down the volume, and everyone settled down.

"I just realized that I don't know how to get there," she said.

"Just keep going straight," directed Rhinestone. "I know the way. It's not too far."

"So...are we all drinking, or what?" she asked.

"Drake said he'd be the designated driver," Gemini said.

"Are you sure, Drake? I mean, you're the one who really wanted to go."

Gemini looked over at the teen, who was staring at the back of Mindy's seat, completely lost in his own mind. Rhinestone turned in his seat, curious as to why Drake wasn't answering. Then he knew. Gemini inconspicuously slapped the young man's thigh, snapping him back to reality.

Drake blinked, then smiled at how much he'd just tripped out on such a minimal amout of pills. "Hmm?"

He noticed Rhinestone shake his head with a knowing grin. Shit, was he being _that_ obvious? Surely, not to Mindy. She didn't know much about anything drug-wise.

"Are you sure you're okay being the designated driver?" Mindy asked again. "I mean, I don't mind-"

"No, it's fine. I don't even feel like drinking much anymore anyway."

Rhinestone snorted, then turned the radio back up after instructing Mindy to take a left.

* * *

><p>Mindy and Gemini were both on their third beers while Rhinestone and Drake were still working on their first. Drake, of course, wanted more. After all, he absolutely <em>loved<em> its taste. But he told himself that three would be his limit. He was the designated driver for one. And secondly, it wasn't a bright idea to mix alcohol with Triple C's. He'd done it before, and it definitely seemed to advance his high immediately, although maybe it was just a mind thing. But you never know what could happen. To be honest, he wasn't exactly sure. Vomiting? Seizure? Coma? Instant death? It's crazy how you know you could die from such activities, but thousands of people still decide that it's a risk worth taking. Drake was one of those people.

"Guys, the table's free. Come on." Rhinestone stood from his seat eagerly, then grabbed a nearby pool stick and stood next to a billiards table.

The others followed, with Mindy tripping over a chair. Gemini was in front of her, and she caught herself by grabbing him. When the confused boy turned, he saw that she was dying of silent laughter, barely able to breathe. He, too, fell into a laughing fit. The two leaned against each other, balancing on one another as they stumbled over to the pool table. Drake followed, but quickly went back for his beer.

"That whole long fucking walk over here, and you haven't even racked them up yet?" Drake said.

He was honestly surprised. A meth head like Rhinestone should've been on top of that.

"I did. It's right there, stupid." Rhinestone pointed.

"Oh. Shit." _How did I miss that? That couldn't have been there a second ago. Who the fuck am I kidding? It so was, and I'm okay with that._

"Dibs on Gemini!" Rhinestone grabbed his boyfriend, pulled him close, then gave him a kiss. He wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin on the boy's neck as Gemini stood in front of him, giggling.

"Shit. I guess I'm stuck with Mindy."

"So we're back to insulting each other? Good, because I've been holding in a lot, and I'm about to explode."

"Like what?" Drake rolled his eyes, then nodded towards the other team. "You break."

"Well, they're not gonna make any sense right now," Mindy said.

"You don't remember them, do you? I thought that big head of yours would actually hold a decent size of information."

"Your mom." Mindy knew she'd lost, so she stuck her tongue out at the boy, who shook his head and chuckled at her pitiful attempt.

He then went around to the other side of the table and leaned over it, trying hard to focus on his aim. Even though his vision was blurry, the ball landed in a hole. He then repositioned himself. He made one more pocket before missing.

"Your mom? Really?" Drake questioned. "My mom's awesome."

"Then shall I say 'your dad?' I know how great you think he is."

Drake didn't respond. He wasn't mad because he was high, but he didn't find her joke funny either. He watched as Gemini stood across from him. His opponent drunkenly stumbled closer to the table, then poorly aimed at the cue ball. He missed and accidentally hit Drake's lower region with the end of the pool stick.

"Ah!" Drake hunched over in pain, then dropped onto his knees.

The others bursted into drunken laugher, attracting the attention of other strangers, who laughed along for a few moments before rejoining their own conversations.

"Shit!" Drake exclaimed.

"Oh, shit, are you okay?!" Gemini could barely speak between his obnoxious laughter.

"Of course he is," Mindy said. "It can't hurt if you don't have anything there."

"Oh, damn!" Rhinestone gave her a high five as another fit of laughter erupted from the group. "You get him, girl!"

Gemini was pretty much sprawled across the table, ignoring the pool balls that were rolling about and giggling as he looked at the boy. "Drake, I am so sorry! Are you okay? Are you crying? It's okay if you cry. We won't laugh at you."

"I will." Mindy said.

Drake slowly pushed himself out of the floor, leaned over the pool table, then pointed at Gemini. "We're not friends anymore."

Mindy held herself up coolly with the pool stick. "That's what he gets for hitting you? I'm so doing it next."

"We're not even friends anyway," Drake said. "Don't you dare fucking do it. It's not fucking funny. You've never felt pain like that."

"Pregnancy."

Drake furrowed his brows. "You've never given birth."

"Well, I'm going to one day, so you can laugh then. Until then, I'll have the last laugh."

Gemini had been walking around the table, holding himself up, and he finally made it over to Drake. He pulled him into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I could massage it if you want."

Drake chuckled, then tried to pull away. Gemini, however, had a tight grip on him because, otherwise, he would stumble over and fall. Drake surprisingly didn't mind having this homosexual cling to him. Although he knew that both Gemini and Rhinestone were attracted to him, Drake was sure that neither would intentionally force their sexuality upon him. Any touchy feely actions they did was just in their nature, and they were like that to everyone.

"Maybe I should slow down," Gemini said. "We haven't even made it to the dance floor yet."

"That sounds like a good idea."

"Who's turn is it?" Mindy questioned.

"Yours," said Rhinestone.

"Oh. Well, I don't really know how to do this."

Drake passed Gemini to his boyfriend, then stood next to her. He explained how to hold the pool stick and what exactly to aim for, but she still seemed hopeless. "Look. Like this." He put his arms around her and showed her where to put her hands.

"Aw, isn't that cute," Rhinestone teased.

"Shut up. Are we stripes or solids? I can't even remember."

"Solids."

"Okay, so you just aim it because, you see, it'll hit the cue ball and make it hit that ball, which will make it go into the pocket. You gotta relax your muscles, though. I know I'm all up on you right now, and that's weird, but you totally like it."

Mindy snorted with laugher. "I'm sure Josh will like it, too, then?"

Drake was quick to step back. "I was just kidding." He changed the subject back to the game. "Just pull that back and aim like I told you."

She did, and surprisingly, she made it. "Oh my god! I did it!"

Drake gave her a high five. "Alright! You get to go again. I'm gonna get another beer. Anyone want one?"

Rhinestone lifted his pinky. "I'll take one, dear."

"I got ya." He headed over to the bar, then started chatting with Julio's older brother Ricardo after asking for two beers.

"So what's been up with you this past week? Julio said you've been ignoring his texts. Hannah needed a band for her sweet sixteen."

"My dad took my phone for sneaking out." Why hadn't he thought of that excuse when he'd talked to Stevie? It was perfect. "Just got it back this morning."

"So you decided to sneak out again?"

Drake was handed two cold bottles of Bud Light. He grabbed them, then grinned. "I guess I'm just a rebel like that."

Ricardo laughed. "Get outta here, kid."

Drake chuckled, then slid out of the stool. "Thanks, Ricky."

As he turned and started towards the pool table, he saw another guy standing with his group of friends. And he was totally putting the moves on Mindy! _Look at him over there, gazing into her eyes and sweet-talking her. What a douche bag!_ Drake watched as the twenty-seven year old drunk wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulders. She uncomfortably shrugged it off.

Drake squeezed through the maze of tables, chairs, and purses. He was now in hearing range.

The man put his arm around Mindy again, lower this time. "Come on, baby. Why don't you come dance with me? I'll buy you another drink."

"I don't want another." She started to step away, but was pulled tighter. "I said stop!"

"Or we can skip the dance and go straight to the back of my pick-up truck."

"I have a boyfriend."

"Well, I don't see him."

Drake pushed through the last crowd of drunks and reached his group. He set the beers onto the pool table, then glared at the older man. He put his arm around Mindy, then pulled her towards him. "Are you flirting with my girlfriend?"

"So what if I was?"

Drake knew he looked young and scrawny compared to this muscular, older man, and he knew that he'd most definitely lose in a fight, so he had to attempt to talk him down.

"What are _you_ gonna do about it?" The man shoved Drake teasingly. "Huh?"

Mindy could see a flame of rage light up Drake's eyes, and she felt his muscles tense, but he kept his voice calm.

"We're not looking for any trouble."

"Well, it's too late, buddy boy." The man shoved him harder this time, causing him to stumble backwards.

Drake furiously charged at him, tackling him to the ground. He gave him a hard punch to the jaw, then one more to the nose before the man's shock wore off. The older man shoved him off of himself, stood with wonderous speed, then gave Drake a swift kick to the ribs.

"Stop! Stop it!" Mindy yelled. She pushed the attacker, but was shoved onto the floor.

Rhinestone moved around the table quickly, clutching the pool stick tightly in his hands. Gemini picked up the cue ball and held it firmly.

"Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Wait a damn minute!" Ricardo jumped in, then grabbed the pool stick away from Rhinestone. He set it onto the table, then gripped the older man and dragged him away, struggling only a little since breaking up fights was pretty much part of his job.

Gemini quickly helped Drake to his feet, then Mindy rushed to his side.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Anger still filled his features. He wiggled his shoulders to get out of his friends' grips and to straighten his shirt.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Ricardo demanded. His voice wasn't extremely loud, for he wanted the onlooking crowd to go back to their peaceful drinking. "Leroy, I thought I told you that you were banned from this place. If you're not gone in three seconds, I'm gonna call the police."

Leroy furiously spat at Drake, who went into another rage, but Ricardo held him back, restraining him as Leroy stalked out of the bar.

"What the hell, Drake?!" Ricardo shoved him.

The young man lifted his hands up as he walked over to the other side of the table to get some space. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?!" Ricardo didn't want a crowd of people to hear their conversation, and he didn't want to keep disturbing the peace. He motioned towards a side door. "Get the fuck out there! Get out there!" He grabbed the back of Drake's shirt collar, then roughly forced him towards the exit. Once they were outside, he harshly shoved the teen away. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?!"

"That son of a bitch pushed me first!"

"I don't give a shit! What were you thinking?! Do you know what could've happened?!"

"Yeah, but-"

"What if the cops had showed up and found out that I was giving alcohol to underaged minors?!"

"But he was-"

"I could've been shut down! I would've been out of a job! And in prison!"

Drake sighed, then hung his head. He hated being yelled at. It was enough having to deal with his father. "Chill the fuck out. Damn," he said.

"Chill out?!" Ricardo angrily shoved him against the brick wall of the bar and held him there. "I should beat your mother fucking head in right now."

Ricardo had quite the reputation of a tough guy. But what else was a bartender supposed to be? He'd broken up plenty of fights between furious drunkards. Drake had never seen him in an actual fight before. However, he was still too scared to test his strength.

"I'm sorry," Drake said. His shoulder screamed in pain as it was held against the bricks. "I don't know what got into me. It won't happen again."

"You're damn right! You and your little gang of friends need to get the hell out of my bar."

"C'mon, Ricky-"

"No '_come on, Ricky._' Look at you. What the hell are you on? You can't even talk without slurring your words."

"I've been drinking. I thought that's why people come to bars."

"You had one beer, Drake. Don't fucking lie to me. Whatever pills you've been popping - you need to cut that shit out. You hear me? It's not good for you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Drake struggled to get out of the stronger man's grip.

"You can deny it all you want, but I'm not fucking stupid."

"Let me go!" Drake fought harder, so Ricardo threw him onto the concrete.

Drake looked up at him with shock. His right cheek was scratched and bleeding slightly, and his hands were skinned up and burning.

"Going around and getting into fights? Don't you get your ass kicked enough at home?"

***FLASHBACK***

Ricardo pulled into the driveway of Drake's house. Julio had asked him to pick him up and drop him off at Stevie's for band rehearsal. He checked the clock, for he didn't want to be late for work, but he wasn't running late at all. He was always early for everything. Like now. Maybe he should've texted Drake ahead of time and mentioned that he'd be half an hour early? Hopefully Drake was ready.

He uncranked the car, opened the door, then crossed the lawn. He could've sworn he heard a loud bang, but he assumed that it was someone closing their trunk in the distance or something. He hopped up onto the porch and started to knock, but he stopped short when he heard a pain-filled scream.

"Get up, you lousy piece of shit! I fucking know it was you who's been drinking my damn beer, you son of a bitch!"

_Crash!_

"Ahhh! If you didn't stay so fucking drunk all the time, maybe you could keep up with how many you drank, you fucking alcoholic!"

And Ricardo knew that shit was about to go down after Drake had retaliated, so he quickly knocked on the door. The inside of the house went silent except for a quiet, "We're not finished with this discussion," from Martin, and a "Fuck you" from Drake. After that, the door opened, then Drake stormed out and went straight towards the car without so much as a glance at Ricardo.

Ricardo hesitantly followed, shocked by the scene that had just played out in front of him. He'd known Drake for years and had _never_ seen this coming _ever_. He got into the driver's seat and saw that the young man had his head hung as if that would hide the humongous bruise on Drake's left cheek. But Ricardo didn't say anything. What could he say? They weren't exactly friends, just aquaintances.

The car ride went by mostly in silence, which was only broken when they were halfway to their destination.

"How much did you hear?" Drake asked, his voice hard.

"Enough."

Drake shook his head. "It's not what it looks like."

"Whatever, Drake. It's none of my business."

_Good_, Drake thought. Boy, was he ready to meet up with his band and be able to rock out and- "Shit!"

"What?"

"I forgot my fucking guitar."

"You wanna go back?"

Drake's voice was quiet because he didn't want his answer to show his fear. "No."

"Then what are you gonna do?"

Drake didn't reply.

"You're gonna show up to band practic without a guitar?"

"You don't think Stevie and Julio will be pissed?"

"Don't you-"

"I don't know!" Drake exclaimed. "Okay, I don't fucking know! Will you get off my fucking back?!"

Ricardo put a stop to his pestering questions.

More silence went by before Drake apologized. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I've just been under a lot of pressure with-"

"You don't gotta explain anything to me, man," Ricardo said. "Hey, since you don't even have your guitar, you wanna skip out on band practice and head over to the bar? Have a few drinks on me."

"You know I'm only seventeen, right?"

Ricardo sighed. "Oh, yeah, we probably couldn't get you past the bar owner anyway." After a moment, he smiled. "Oh, wait. I am the bar owner, and I say you should get wasted out of your fucking mind!"

***END FLASHBACK***

"Fuck you." Drake pushed himself to his feet, hurt that the bartender had been so rough with him knowing how it was for him at home.

Ricardo chuckled, shaking his head incredulously. "After everything I've done for you and all the laws I broke to let you come in here and have fun instead of being stuck at home with your dad, you're gonna speak to me like that? God, what the hell is wrong with you, Drake? This isn't you. Those pills you've been taking make you angry."

"I'm not taking anything."

"Are you that bad on them that you can't even admit it?"

"You don't know anything about me." Drake turned and started to head back inside, but Ricardo grabbed his shoulder and held him back.

"I know more than you think." He pushed him past the side entrance, silently telling him to wait out front for his friends.

Drake crossed his arms over his chest as Ricardo disappeared through the door. He stormed towards the front of the building and saw a small group of people huddled together for a picture. However, they were struggling to get everyone in the shot.

"Hey, kid," the blonde asked, motioning for him to come over. "You mind taking a picture of us?"

"Sure." Drake took the camera, then stepped back, careful not to stumble and fall. He aimed, his vision no longer blurry. That fight had totally killed his high. He took the picture, then held it out. "This okay?"

The blonde looked at it. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Do any of you smoke?" he asked. "I will give a dollar to anyone who gives me a cigarette." Drake was really shook up about the fight and getting kicked out of the bar. He'd accept anything that would calm his nerves.

"I got one." The brunette girl with red lipstick said. "You can keep your money. You look like you need it. The smoke, I mean." She reached into the top of her tank and pulled a pack out of her bra. She passed him one, then held out a lighter. She flicked it.

Drake inhaled on one end of the cigarette as he held the other end over the flame. After he exhaled, he said, "Thanks."

"Why don't you come inside and hang with us?"

Drake realized then that she was single. _God, and so, so, _SO_ hot!_ "Uh, nah, I can't. I was actually just leaving."

She frowned with disappointment. "That's too bad."

When Mindy, Rhinestone, and Gemini exited the doors to the bar, they found Drake, of course, getting some girl's number. When the girl with the red lipstick saw them coming, she smiled at Drake, then followed her friends inside.

"What the hell happened to you?" Gemini reached up and turned Drake's chin, getting a better look at the scratches on the boy's cheek.

Drake pushed his hand away, then let go of the breath of smoke he'd been holding. "Nothing, man. Let's just get the fuck outta here."

"Where are we gonna go now?" Mindy asked, surprised that Drake was smoking a cigarette. _But why am I so shocked?_ she pondered.

Drake thought for a moment, then he looked up at his friend. "Rhinestone." He grinned.

"What?" The boy gave off a look of confusion.

"Come on. I know you're holding."

Rhinestone smiled. "I like how you think."

* * *

><p>Drake was driving down the dark road, trying hard to keep his mind off the disappearing sky. Why did he always start thinking about floating off into nothing when he was high outside? He took one more hit off the roach, then passed it to Mindy, who was sitting next to him. She looked up from her cell phone.<p>

"What's up?" Drake asked over the blaring music.

"My dad keeps asking where I am."

"You need to go home?"

"Yeah, probably."

Gemini leaned forwards between the two front seats. "Do we have time to eat first?" He batted his mascara-coated eyelashes pleadingly.

"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged. "I'm already out late, so what's thirty more minutes?"

Drake pulled the car into a McDonald's, where Rhinestone worked, then parked. They all climbed out, then walked inside.

"What are you guys getting?" Gemini questioned.

"I want a Big Mac," Mindy said. "God, that sounds so good right now."

"Drake? Rhinestone?"

"I'm actually not hungry," Drake said.

"Me neither," the other agreed.

"Are you sure? I don't mind buying if you're broke."

Both declined the offer, but Drake did buy himself a lemonade, then he excused himself and went to the bathroom, where he locked himself inside of a stall, set his drink on the floor, and opened his bag, reaching for the last three boxes of Triple C's. He'd had a bad night, and he just wanted to get fucked up so that he could forget about everything.

He frowned as he realized that these were his last boxes. He'd have to get more tomorrow. He decided to leave twelve and only take thirty-six. _Ugh, God! That is a lot to swallow._ He was about to be sick just opening the packages, and come to think about it, maybe lemonade hadn't been the best choice to swallow them down with.

Drake dropped a handful of tiny, red pills into his mouth, then quickly chased them down his throat. He'd hoped that he'd get through these faster if he took sixteen at a time, but he just couldn't stomach it, for he gagged, causing a few pills to fall onto the floor. Drake took another swallow of his lemonade, just trying to get the ones in his mouth down. When he did, he picked up the ones he'd dropped, almost vomiting as he bent over. He put the retrieved tablets into his mouth, then gulped them down. He couldn't stand losing a single pill. If he lost any, even just one, he felt like his high was one Triple C less, and that made a big difference when you had a dependency on them.

Drake's whole body shook uncontrollably for a moment as the repulsive taste brought goosebumps up on his arms. But he could already feel numb lips. In fact, he couldn't actually remember being able to feel his lips since he'd taken them when he'd gotten out of the basement. _Mmm. What a beautiful feeling..._

Drake went slow and steady, twenty more pills. He thought about taking them in increments of ten, but he knew that that wouldn't be a good idea. Trying to fit so much disgusting into his mouth at once when he was already swallowing down his vomit every few moments wasn't such a good idea, so he took seven, paced for three minutes, took seven more, paced for one impatient minute, then gulped down the last six. He leaned against the stall, hanging his head with his eyes closed. Taking Triple C's always gave him shivers and made his hair stand up and covered his arms with goosebumps, yet his face felt feverish. Just above his lip where his invisible mustache was growing - that's where he felt the warmest. That's the place he liked the best. He just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and lay directly below his own nose forever in its warmth.

_Shit. Am I already high? How long ago did I take that first sixteen?_

Drake didn't even have time to look at his watch. His body suddenly jerked forwards, and he started puking into the toilet bowl. His eyes watered over, and he tried to wipe them. He felt as though he had no control over his vomiting until he could see straight. But no matter how much he wiped at his eyes, his vision stayed blurry. Yup. He was high.

Drake flushed the toilet, then leaned against the wall. After that, he started slowly sliding down it until he was in a sitting position. His teeth started chattering, and he rubbed his hands up and down his thighs restlessly.

"Drake? You okay?" It was Rhinestone. He'd pushed the bathroom door open and peeped inside, but he didn't see the teen. Must be in the stall. No wonder he's taking so long. It's been at least thirty minutes, and everyone was finished eating and ready to go home to get some sleep.

"Drake?" He received a moan as a response. Rhinestone stepped inside, then let the door close behind him. "Are you okay? Can I get you something?" Rhinestone could hear Drake's teeth chattering as if he were freezing to death. He bent over and looked under the opening at the bottom of the door. "Oh, shit." Rhinestone slid himself under the door, then shook Drake's arm. "Hey. Hey."

"Mmm..." He didn't even open his eyes.

"Drake, are you going to be okay? Or do you need me to call an ambulence?"

"No, don. I'mfine."

"Are you sure? How many did you take?"

"Took..." Drake smiled as he mumbled, "I feelin mysel go wup alevel."

Rhinestone knew what he was talking about. After all, he'd done it plenty of times before. When you take the pills in increments, it's almost like you can feel yourself going up to the next level of the high. "Drake, how many did you take?" Rhinestone enunciated his words.

"I don tramember." He let go of a chuckle as sweat started to coat his skin.

"What's your number?"

Rhinestone remained completely calm in this situation. Drake didn't look like he'd overdosed. He just looked like he was tripping the fuck out. And Rhinestone trusted that Drake wasn't stupid enough to not know his limit.

"What's your number?" Rhinestone asked again.

"555-"

"Not your phone number. Your Triple C number."

"Mmm..." Drake struggled to do math at this time. God, it was so hard to add up these number. He, on average, liked to do about two boxes. _That's sixteen plus sixteen. Eight plus eight plus eight plus eight. Four plus four plus four plus four plus four plus four plus... Wait. How many fours was that? I think that was too many._ Drake finally settled on the simple answer. "Two boxes."

Rhinestone looked around, then grabbed all of the boxes and their open packages, checking to see how many pills were missing. "Eight. Sixteen. Twenty-four. Thirty-two. Thirty-three. Thirty-four. Thirty-five. Thirty-six." Just four over his average intake. He'll be perfectly fine. Even if Drake had taken an extra box or so, Rhinestone believed that he'd be okay. Rhinestone had overdosed on Triple C's before when Gemini had spun the night. He'd started seizing, so his boyfriend freaked out and called an ambulance. They didn't even pump his stomach at the hospital.

Rhinestone put the twelve remaining pills in one box, then put it in Drake's backpack, hiding it in the bottom. After that, he stood and threw the two empty boxes and the leftover lemonade away. He tossed the bookbag onto his back, then helped lift the teen to his feet. "Are you good?"

"I'm super." Drake smiled.

"Right on. Alright, come on, sweetie. We're gonna take you home." Rhinestone wrapped an arm around him for support, then led him out of the bathroom.

They immediately turned and walked out the front doors to avoid the eyes of any employees or customers. However, Gemini saw them, so he got up and hurried over with worry. Mindy was right behind him.

"Is he okay?" Gemini asked.

"He's perfectly fine." Rhinestone opened the passenger-side door, then helped the boy inside.

"He's not driving?" Mindy asked. "I definitely can't drive right now.

"You're okay with me driving your car?"

Mindy was hesitant.

"I swear I know how or I wouldn't have offered."

The girl gave in, then got into the back seat with Gemini.

"Drake, are you okay?" Mindy didn't receive an answer, and she was getting paranoid. Maybe it was just the weed talking, but something's totally wrong. Why was everyone being so weird. How come everyone seemed to know what was going on but her. Even Gemini seemed calm and was joking around with Rhinestone.

"You guys are starting to scare me," she said with a shaky voice.

"Aw." Rhinestone frowned playfully.

Gemini pulled her into a hug. "Why are you scared, sweetie?"

"You guys are being sketchy. What's wrong with Drake? Is he dead?"

"No, silly! He just got way too high," Rhinestone said. "He must've took a lot of hits off the blunt when we weren't looking."

"He'll be okay?"

"Of course. But he clearly can't sneak into his own house right now, so I'm just gonna take him to my house. My aunt will be asleep."

* * *

><p>Rhinestone was pacing his room, talking Drake's head off. Drake just sat on the bed, watching him move back and forth, back and forth, trying hard to keep up.<p>

"I love Gem so much, but... I don't know. Those are some huge obstacles. What the fuck are we supposed to do when we both wanna top? I can't bottom. I've tried, and it hurts like hell. And he doesn't like to, either. We're not compatible sexually. How is that gonna work? At this rate, one of us is gonna end up cheating on the other."

"Well, I mean, then maybe you should find someone who likes to bottom. Maybe you two shouldn't be together."

"But if you love someone, you're not just supposed to give up when you're thrown some sort of obstacle. You're supposed to work things out."

"That's true." Drake's advice wasn't exactly what he'd normally give because he was high and having trouble thinking clearly, especially since all Rhinestone did was talk, talk, talk.

Rhinestone looked on his dresser, then in the the drawers, then in the closet. "Shit. Did you see where I put my pipe?"

"I think..." Drake remembered the boy sitting in front of him, but he also remembered him standing next to the television set and by the window and near the computer desk, and he couldn't recall the order and where his friend had been last with his pipe. "No, I have no idea."

"Mother fucker. I always lose that son of a bitch." Rhinestone re-searched each place. He couldn't remember where he'd been or what he'd done. He opened all the drawers again, looking under papers and art folders and journals. After that, he moved towards the closet. He stood up on a chair, rummaging through the top rack, searching behind books, movies, paintings, and random nick-nacks. He hopped down and realized how loud he was being, so he turned up the music to drown out the noises that he was making.

_Breathe Carolina. Of course Rhinestone loves them_, Drake thought. _What person that did meth wouldn't?_

Rhinestone checked in the pocket of every jacket and shirt and pair of jeans that hung in his closet, then he started rifling through the computer desk drawers. "Did I leave the room earlier?"

"No, I don't think so." Drake stood and picked up the comforter, then fanned it through the air to see if the pipe was hiding somewhere. _Nope._ Too tired to do that much energy-exherting, he sat back down.

Rhinestone picked up the pillows off of the bed, then stuck his hand inside the cases. Next, he rounded back to the dresser. He checked behind it, then he used his cell phone for light and checked under it. He then opened the drawers again, and this time, he removed everything and tossed it all in the floor.

Drake laid down and rested his head on one arm. He asked himself, _If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?_ And then he closed his eyes, and he was there. The sky was black and there were stars everywhere. Drake was floating around in space, looking down at earth and its beauty. But there was a line - one like the dashed ones on a blueprint. It touched earth, then reached over to mars, then jupiter. Then he saw more lines, some solid and darker, which touched different planets even if they weren't next to each other in the circle. After a moment, he realized that he was in Rhinestone's room, and his eyes were now open, but the planets and stars were still there. They were still floating directly above his head.

"Drake!" Rhinestone said for the third time.

"Hmm?"

"Can you get up for a second so I can look on the bed?"

"What?"

Rhinestone was getting agrivated although he understood why he wasn't comprehending. "For my pipe. Can you get up so I can see if you're laying on it?"

Drake got up like he was asked. When he turned back towards the bed, the planets were no longer there, and he couldn't remember exactly what he'd just hallucinated. For some reason, he thought it had to do with a girl. "I think I just met the lady who holds the planets together."

Rhinestone was too frustrated to laugh or ask him about her. He groaned when he didn't find the pipe. He looked under the bed and behind the head board before lifting up the whole mattress. "I need a cigarette. Wanna come outside with me?"

Drake followed, then took a cigarette when Rhinestone offered. He waited until the boy finished using the lighter, then he lit his cigarette with an inhale. He loved mixing them with Triple C's. It made him shake. It made him weak and dizzy. And he liked it.

"I don't know where the damn thing could be. I checked every-fucking-where."

"You're not gonna find it if you keep looking for it."

"Sweetie..." Rhinestone smiled sensitively, trying not to make Drake feel stupid. "That made no fucking sense."

"Yes, it does. When you lose something while you're high, you won't find it unless you're high and not looking for it." Drake could see that he still didn't understand. "One time, I lost my favorite belt when I was high off of Xanax. Two months later, I woke up one morning after snorting three Xanax bars, and I was wearing that very same belt. I don't remember where I found it or when I put it on, but I love when I find my missing things."

"I don't wanna wait two fucking months to find my meth pipe. There's still some in it."

"Just calm down. When you stop worrying, you'll find it."

"I don't think you understand, Drake."

But Drake did, in fact, understand more than most. He had his own addiction, and he was just glad that Rhinestone was missing his vice and not the other way around. Drake had been through it more than his fair share of times, though. Besides, when all the stores that carried his drug of choice were out, there was absolutely nothing that he could do.

Rhinestone suddenly realized that Drake did understand. "So what made you start using Triple C's?" he asked, blowing a puff of smoke from his lips.

"I don't know. I tried it once. I knew then that I would be addicted to them if I kept doing them."

"So why'd you keep doing them?"

"Because..." Since that first high, Drake felt something wonderful. Better than anything he'd ever felt before. Plus, it was fun and it distracted him from living with his dad and got him through the long, boring school days. Charlie was always there for him, and he always knew just what Drake needed. "Because why the fuck not?"

"I get it. Triple C's are my absolute favorite. I've overdosed on them twice."

"Then why don't you do them?" Drake suddenly felt as though he was betraying Gemini. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Not that I'm encouraging you. I mean, but meth, though? They're a lot safer than that."

"Because I _need_ meth." Rhinestone placed his finished cigarette into the ashtray, but his fingers were still shaking. "You ready to go back inside?"

Drake stood after leaving his cigarette next to Rhinestone's, then followed his friend inside. Drake was much slower than Rhinestone, for one was on meth and the other was just trying not to stumble and fall face down in the floor. He brushed his fingers along the wall of the long hallway. _Why the hell is Rhinestone's room the last fucking door?_ At one point, he walked too far to the right and was actually sliding alongside the wall. When he finally made it to the room, he came to a halt and stared at the mess on the floor. _Was this here before?_

Rhinestone looked up and saw Drake blinking away the blurriness a few times, but he knew that it wouldn't work. He took a few steps towards the teen, careful to step on the sparce visible parts of the floor. "Here." He held out his hand, and Drake gratefully took it. Rhinestone kept him steady as he made it to the bed.

Drake laid back down and wrapped himself up under the comforter. He rested his head on the pillow, closed his eyes tiredly, and let the music carry him away as Rhinestone tore the room apart around him.

**_And when you say  
>I'm not okay<br>I left my phone in the cab  
>Now you can't get me<br>I'm only getting started _**


	6. Inhale

Drake awoke to the sound of Rhinestone snorting a line of white powder. He blinked his eyes a few times, then rubbed them. He stretched his whole body, letting go of a sigh as he did so. When he looked back up, Rhinestone was pacing the room, clutching the back of his head as a severe pain shot through his skull. Rhinestone groaned through his clenched teeth. Drake knew this feeling, and he knew that the pain would go away shortly. And it did; the second a tear dripped down Rhinestone's right cheek, he was perfectly fine.

Drake sat up, found his shoes, then started slipping them onto his feet. As he did, he scanned the mess of a floor for his backpack. He saw it at the foot of the bed and noticed that it was open. Rhinestone, having looked up and down for his meth pipe, had even dared to rummage through Drake's personal belongings just to be sure the boy hadn't taken it. Drake understood, and he had nothing to hide. As long as his Triple C's were still in tact (and they were, for Drake counted every single pill), then he was fine.

"You leaving?" Rhinestone asked. He made a snorting noise so that the meth would travel through his nasal passage and down to his throat so that he could swallow it before he got bad drainage.

"Yeah. I gotta go into town for a second."

Rhinestone knew that that meant Drake was getting a refill. "I'll walk with you. I'm going over to a friend's house."

Looks like Rhinestone and Drake had a lot in common so far on their to-do lists for the day.

* * *

><p>Drake walked into his room with a towel around his waist. Once he was inside with the door shut, he went over to his backpack, grabbed a can out from inside, put the nozzle to his lips, pushed down on the trigger, then inhaled. He could only breathe in the dust-off for so long because it filled his lungs up with air rather quickly. He put the can away while he could still think properly. With that hit, he wasn't planning on blacking out. He'd just wanted to feel...well...wonderful...<p>

A stupid grin filled Drake's features. "**OOOH MYYY GOOODDDD...**" He chuckled deeply.

The can had the opposite effect as helium. When one inhales helium from a balloon, his/her voice becomes high-pitched like Alvin and the Chipmunks. However, when one huffs dust-off, his/her voice is low-pitched. _Unnaturally_ low-pitched.

Drake walked over to his dresser and found a pair of boxers. He took off the towel and replaced it with the underwear. Usually, he wouldn't bother to unpack when he stayed at his father's, but two months was a _long_ time.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Drake jumped out of his skin, then whipped around to see his father. By the look on his face, he knew that he was in trouble.

"Where the hell were you last night?!" the man yelled.

"I stayed at a friend's."

"Without asking me? Huh?!"

Drake backed against the wall when Martin stormed towards him, but he was grabbed, then pulled past his dad and shoved onto the floor.

"Oof!" Drake checked to see if he'd hidden the can or if he'd left it laying on the bed. When he was in the clear, he started crawling towards the door.

Martin stomped past him, then slammed it closed. He then grabbed Drake's hair and yanked him to his feet.

"Ah! Ahh!"

Without giving the boy any time to steady himself, Martin shoved him against the dresser. Drake landed on top of it, and his head banged hard against the glass mirror, breaking it in one spot. He clutched the injured spot. Martin was in his face within seconds and leaning over him with a firey glare. Drake swallowed down his fear, then pushed himself against the mirror as much as possible. His father's breath reeked of alcohol, as it always did.

Martin grabbed his son's cheeks and squeezed. He brought the boy's face closer to his own, then shoved it back against the mirror again. Drake's neck was exposed, and Martin could clearly see the gulp that he tried so hard to hide. Drake struggled to wiggle his way out of Mr. Parker's painful grip, but Martin only tightened his grasp with ease, showing off his superior strength with a smirk.

"You see this, Drake? I can do whatever I want to you, and you can't do shit about it," he spat. "You weak little fuck."

Drake wanted to rebel any way that he could just to show his father that he didn't control him, so he spat in the man's eye.

Martin was shocked, and it showed on his face, filling Drake with some sort of pride. He was repulsed as he wiped away the saliva. "Why you little..."

And in that moment, all of his fear returned to him, and he knew that he was in for it.

Drake fell onto the ground when his dad pulled his legs, causing him to fall off of the dresser. Drake gazed up at him, and that's when he saw it. That's when he spotted the tightly clenched fist soaring through the air, coming straight at him. It collided with his skin square in the nose, causing a sudden gush of blood to erupt. The boy was slugged again in the face, causing his head to turn with the force of the blow. Before he had any time to recooperate, he was punched again. He then lifted his hands in surrender, hoping that maybe his father would ease up on him before he was given a broken nose.

"Dad, stop! I hate you like this!" he yelled fearfully. When Martin ceased fire, Drake looked up at him with blood dripping across his lips. "Why do you have to be like this?! Look at yourself! You're drunk as fuck, and it's only eleven in the morning!"

Furiously, Martin yanked Drake to his feet, whipped him around, bent him over the dresser, and shoved his face against the mirror. He had a fistful of the boys hair tightly in his grip.

"Ah!" Drake reached back, feeling as though his scalp was being ripped from his head.

"Look at me?! Fuckin' look at you!" Martin pulled him back, then forced his face harder against the glass.

"Ah!" Drake put his hand down with defeat, then stared at his reflection. Blood was smeared against the mirror, blocking some of his view, and he could taste copper on his lips.

"You insolent piece of shit," Martin spat.

Drake tried to push himself away, but his father had him tightly pinned exactly where he wanted him. "Let me go."

"You're weak," Mr. Parker taunted with disgust. "You're fucking weak and pathetic!"

Since Drake was only wearing his boxers, he could see the many bruises that covered his own skin, and he knew that his father was right. "I'm your son," he said meekly. "Why do you treat me like a piece of shit?"

"WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE ONE?!" Martin yelled only centimeters from his ear. "HUH?!"

Drake's muscles were tensed, and he had his eyes squeezed closed. He'd tried to move his head away from the monstrous voice, but Martin wouldn't let him. His breathing became faster, but with each exhale, his father's weight would grow heavier and heavier upon him since Martin was leaning against him to hold him down, his elbow digging into the boy's spine. He felt the walls closing in around him, and he needed room to breathe. "Dad, you're hurting me," he said with obvious discomfort.

"What about when you didn't come home last night? You didn't think you'd be hurting me?"

"What?" Drake was confused. "What are you talking about?" He tried again to squirm out of the man's grip, but Martin's elbow unintentionally dug deeper in his struggle, this time digging into a large bruise that had once been caused by his dad's boot. "Ahhh!"

"You think you can just come and go as you please?!"

"I didn't think you cared."

"You didn't think I cared?" Martin tightened his grip on the boy's hair, then pulled downward some, forcing his son to lift his head and look at him.

"Ah!" Drake squeezed his eyes closed for a second, and his nostrils flared. His breathing was rapid. "Let me go." His voice shook no matter how hard he tried to keep it steady.

"You didn't think I cared?!" the man repeated. "HUH?!"

Drake flinched at his outburst.

"I'm you're fucking father! You don't think I care?! Haven't I proved to you just how much I love you?! HUH?! Do you need another fucking reminder?!" Martin then yanked at Drake's boxers, tearing them as he forcefully slid them down the boy's legs.

"No..."

Martin slammed Drake's head against the mirror again, earning a yelp. He put his lips next to the boy's ear, then spoke with clenched teeth. "You hush your fucking mouth. You asked for this."

"No! Stop!" Drake tried to push himself up and wiggle away, but Martin punched him in the back of the skull, then held his head against the dresser with one hand in the boy's dizzied state while he unfastened his own jeans and boxers.

Once Martin was ready, he gripped Drake's hair and shoved his cheek up against the mirror again so hard that a bruise was beginning to form. Drake felt as though his jaw would shatter. He kept his teeth clenched together and screamed.

"You can scream all you fucking want. I don't mind," Martin said. "It just turns me on even more." It was then that he thrusted himself into the teen's rear end.

"Ah!" Drake yelled. "Ah! Ow! You're hurting me!"

Martin's grunts were loud and deep and exaggerated. He knew the noise bothered Drake. "Un! Un! Un! Un! Un!" He moved one hand down to the boy's private area and started teasing it.

"Stop..." Drake moved his own hand downward and tried to grab his father's away, which pursueded the man to play rougher. All of Drake's lower regions were consumed by an undeniable, painful sort of pleasure, which he both hated and...loved.

"Get off of me! You're hurting me!" Drake felt trapped and exposed and helpless. He couldn't move under his dad's weight. Martin used his feet and knees to force the teen's legs apart more, giving him easier access and helping him inch himself further.

"Ahh!" Drake screeched with pain as Martin pumped all ten and a half inches inside of him. "Ahhhh!"

Mr. Parker moved faster, and he was sweating everywhere, which sickened Drake. The boy could hear the back of his dresser banging and scraping against the wall, and his jaw started to throb with each thrust, for it was pushed against the mirror harder and harder, crushing his face. He stopped using his hand to fight against his father's tugging one and instead held it up against the mirror almost as if to reach out for help.

"Ah!" Drake cried when the man started to play a lot rougher with his member since his hand was gone. "Ah! Ahh! Oh, God!"

"That's right," Martin panted. "Enjoy yourself."

It sickened Drake that his father was pretended that his cries of pain were instead exclamations of pleasure. "You're fucking disgusting!"

"I'm disgusting?" Martin grinned. "It feels to me like you're pretty aroused by this." he said with his hand all over the boy's growing member. "You think I'm disgusting, you little faggot? Look at yourself. You're getting off on this. With me. Your own father," he spat.

The young man's voice was weak. "Stop it."

"FUCKIN' LOOK-"

"Ahhhhh!"

"-AT YOURSELF, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

Drake shook with fear, which his father gladly misinterpreted. But the boy obeyed. He looked at his reflection and wanted to puke. Why wasn't he able to control himself? He didn't want this. He wasn't a pervert. God, he absolutely hated himself for being so weak.

His father's vulgar words and images grew as his climax hit. He moaned as he sweatily banged Drake from behind. The young man let go of a strangled sob when he felt his father's cum expload inside of him. He no longer fought and wiggled. He just waited and waited, hoping it'd be over soon. But when Martin was finished, he stepped back and yanked Drake up against his naked body.

"Touch yourself."

"No." His voice was an octave higher, for he knew he was going to burst into tears any second now.

"FUCKIN' DO AS I SAY!" Martin grabbed the boy's hand, then placed it on Drake's erect member. He kept his own hand over his son's just to make sure he didn't let go, then he started tugging. "See, I didn't forget about you. I'm doing this because I care. This is for you."

"I hate you!"

"Well, you're dick doesn't seem to feel the same way." Martin grinned.

And that was it. That's when the waterworks began. And what disgusted Drake the most was the orgasm that he was just beginning to feel, and his father knew it. It was written all over his face. The boy weakly leaned against his dad more as his legs got tired. His lips trembled, and his body shook as he glared at his own reflection with repulsion. Martin swore that, at one point, he could hear a quiet moan leave his son's lips. He grinned when the young man's cum splattered all over his dresser and dripped down to the floor. Martin immediately tossed the boy to the side. Drake hit the carpet, still crying and shivering, naked on the floor.

"Get this mess cleaned up," Martin ordered as he pulled his pants back up, then buttoned them. "NOW, YOU STUPID SLUT!" He stomped his foot towards the teen.

Drake screamed, then scooted himself backwards. "Okay," he said meekly, his voice squeaking.

Martin pointed directly at Drake with rage in his eyes. "And if you ever tell anyone what happened, I swear to God I'm gonna slit your fucking throat!" He yanked the boy to his feet when he didn't reply immediately, then shoved him against the wall and visciously grabbed a hold of his lower regions tightly.

"Okay! Okay! Okay!" Drake yelled. "Okay!" He leaned forwards, his face burried into his father's shoulder. He reached up and grasped a fistful of his dad's shirt pleadingly. "Ow! Ahhh!"

"Say it!"

"I won't tell! I swear! I swear to God!" Again, his voice squeaked, and again, Drake was thrown onto the floor.

Martin stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Drake yelled furiously through clenched teeth and banged his fist against the floor, then broke down into sobs.

* * *

><p>Drake leaned against the side of his bed and he rested on the floor. He lifted his arm and put the nozzle of the dust-off can to his lips, then pressed down and inhaled.<p>

It hadn't been the first time that Mr. Parker had raped Drake. Nor the second or third or fourth. It didn't happen often, but when it did, Drake always stayed fucked up afterwards. His Triple C's hadn't hit yet, and Drake wasn't sure if they ever would, so he settled for the can, which would immediately take his pain away. The first time it had happened, Drake had, of course, been high out of his mind on Triple C's. He hardly knew what was happening, and he barely recalled anything the next morning. When he'd woken up naked with his father's clothes on the floor nearby, he gradually started to remember. Martin had told him that it was his punishment for being high. He'd threatened to do it again if he found out that Drake ever stepped foot on his property under the influence again. And you'd think that that would've stopped the boy, or at least made him hesitate. But it didn't. Nothing ever did.

Drake hadn't quite cleaned his room yet. Of course, he'd wiped away the blood and other certain bodily discharges that had left him, but glass still rested on the dresser, and the items that had been on the dresser were now thrown onto the floor from one of Drake's fits of rage.

The squeal of the air leaving the can filled the room again as Drake took another hit. A peaceful expression filled his face as he started falling to one side, completely blacked out. He didn't know how to describe the feeling accurately. It was almost like being on a roller coaster, and he's going up and up and up. And just when he got to the top, instead of falling...he flew, and he broke through the atmosphere and reached outer space. And it was pure bliss. But it didn't last long. Maybe between twenty and thirty seconds or so. And that's why he'd have to take another hit. He hated when he started plummetting back down to earth. He hated when he could think clearly. He hated not feeling disoriented. He needed it. He lived by it.

Drake was still currently blacked out, so he wasn't aware of the world around him, and he wasn't aware of himself and his own existance. He didn't see darkness because seeing meant being. He really didn't even feel anything anymore. It was as though he were dead. But to be dead, you had to once be alive, and at the moment, he had no recollection of being such.

He simply just wasn't there.

"Drake?" Mindy knocked on his door, but of course, she didn't receive and answer. She pushed his door open and her heart fell. "Drake!" She rushed over to the boy, then got onto her knees and shook him. "Drake? Drake, can you hear me? Wake up." She shook him more violently and found his body to be limp and heavy. She then assumed that he'd overdosed from the Triple C's, so she grabbed her cell phone and started dialing.

9-1-

Drake slowly opened his eyes and found himself on the floor. He pushed himself up and saw Mindy.

"What the hell happened to you?!" She seemed worried, but Drake was too confused to understand why.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Drake asked.

"I came here to tutor you. What happened?!" She demanded.

"I told you that I didn't feel like it today."

"And then I told you that you're not gonna pass if you don't start buckling down and studying. We talked about this on the phone thirty minutes ago. Remember?"

Drake didn't. It had been the strangest phone conversation of Mindy's life. It hadn't taken her long at all to convince Drake like she'd expected. She'd heard a loud squeal on a few occassions, and Drake's short words sometimes seemed...off. And then he stopped replying completely, for he'd blacked out.

Mindy looked around and noticed that his room was trashed and the mirror was busted. "What happened in here?"

Drake stood, attracting her attention. "You can't just barge into people's houses!"

"You're dad let me in on his way out," she explained, confused.

"You could've fucking knocked!"

He didn't mean to be yelling, but he was scared. If she found out that he'd been huffing dust-off, she'd surely tattle on him then. But that was the least of his worries. Displayed in front of her was all his deepest secrets. Besides the can, which was poorly hidden under the bed, his room was a portrait of what had happened to him. If she put the pieces together, she would know that his dad beats him and rapes him. And if she found out about the abuse, she'd tell someone, and his dad would get away with it. Martin always did. And then he'd slaughter Drake and make him wish he was dead. There was nothing he feared more than his father. Well, other than being permanently separated from Charlie. Charlie always comes first.

"I did," Mindy said, "You didn't answer."

"Then that should've been your hint to fuck off!"

Mindy was shocked. "Why are you being like this?" She looked again at the dresser as if trying to piece together what had happened in order to get answers. "I thought we were actually starting to be friends."

Drake nervously stood in between her and the dresser. "We're not friends, Mindy! I was just trying to be nice so you'd actually teach me things! We fucking hate each other!"

"So the whole time I was having fun with you, you were just using me to pass?"

"Mindy, just go home!" Drake motioned towards the door. He was confused although he hid it well. He almost swore that she was genuinely hurt. He was expecting her to bash him back, and everything would go back to normal, but she didn't have a single snarky remark to make. "Why the fuck are you still standing here?! Get the fuck out!" And then Drake shoved her towards the door and slammed it closed behind her.

His heart was beating fast as he leaned his back against the door. He knew that she'd never speak to him again, and he'd never pass the twelfth grade. But that wasn't nearly as bad as not being alive to try. Not to mention the humiliation he would've felt if she'd learned that his own dad had fucked him. And he'd liked it...

Drake had felt like she was becoming a friend. She'd kind of been special and unlike the others. She was real, and he seemed to lack real friends. She genuinely liked him for who he was and not who he pretended to be. He made her curious because of the drugs and the popularity. It was as though she looked up to him with admiration. Mindy was the first person who had ever looked at him like that.

And now she was gone.

Drake banged his fists against the door with anger towards himself and towards his father. He cursed at himself for being so horrible to her and treating her just as Martin treated him. It disgusted him even to replay the argument and recall the moment he'd forcefully and violently shoved her out the door. Drake could feel himself being overwhelmed with too many emotions to process, so he stomped across the room and dug under his bed for the can. When he touched it, his skin immediately started burning. He looked at his hand and saw that it was red and wrinkled slightly, which was caused by the length of time he'd clung to the can as ice would build up with each hit, then sweat away. _That's_ what was going inside his lungs. But he didn't care.

He grabbed the can and didn't even bother to rub it as an attempt to make sure it wasn't too cold. If there was any bit of ice actually sticking on it, it could freeze your lungs and kill you in an instant. At least, that's what he'd heard, and therefore, that's what he always went by. Drake pushed down on the nozzle and inhaled. He was going to take a big hit this time. He wanted to make sure he blacked the fuck out. And he did. Hit after hit after hit, he woke up on the floor and repeated the process until the can was empty. And even then, the inside of his mouth was so cold that he couldn't tell that no air was coming out of the can, so he kept pushing down on the nozzle and thinking that he was feeling it when he was, in fact, beginning to permanently come down.


	7. Geeked Up

Drake snorted another line of white powder. That's what he liked about Rhinestone. Even though he was an addict, he still selflessly shared his drugs with Drake. He needed meth right now because Triple C's would just depress him while meth would help him sort through his racing thoughts. Drake straightened and closed his left nostril with his pointer finger. He continued to sniff the powder through his nasal passage as a severe pain started throbbing at the right side of the back of his head. He clutched the spot, but that didn't help. He sat down, blinded by the pain. He knew it'd be over in seconds, but it always seemed to take forever

Rhinestone, whose pain had just went away, empathized with Drake. "I hate snorting this shit. I need to find my fucking pipe."

Drake made another snorting noise, then wiped at his nose. "God, I'm such a fucking jerk. Like, I literally _shoved_ her out of my room and slammed the door right in her face."

"Well, I mean, come on, Drake. Don't things like this always happen when you have a drug problem to protect?" Rhinestone was sitting in the floor, making a weird sculpture out of flowers and knick-knacks and glittery things.

"I just...I mean, not many people have found out. I keep Josh under control and can convince him that I'm gonna quit. But no one else really knows. And I don't know. Mindy and I kinda developed this weird bond over the past few days, and I think I might actually like her, and now I just fucked everything up. If she finds out, my whole family will know and I'll be forced into rehab. I _can't_ go to rehab."

"Maybe she won't tell. Ow! Shit!" Rhinestone exclaimed when he burned himself with the hot glue gun.

"What if she does?"

"It's that, or you lose her forever. How much do you care about her?"

"I mean, we were just friends. And barely that. But I mean, it happened so fast, and we could've been best friends. And she's a healthy friend to have. She's smart as fuck. She works towards the future. She's not stuck on drugs. She doesn't remind me of drugs. I don't feel like I _have_ to be high just to get through being around her. We really have fun together, and it's almost enough, you know? And maybe one day, I'll actually decide to get sober, and I'll be okay because I don't need to be fucked up to have fun with her."

* * *

><p>Mindy slowly opened her eyes at the sound of her cell phone giving off a text alert. She was sure she'd heard it several more times in her dreams, and when she picked up her phone and looked at it, squinting at the bright light, it showed her that she had sixteen text messages - all from Drake. Mindy put her phone back down. She didn't want to talk to him. She never wanted to talk to him again after what he'd said to her the day before. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but she received another text, keeping her from dozing off. Her phone then made yet another sound, then another. It was then that she realized just how annoying her alert sound was. With a groan, Mindy picked up her phone and opened the last text, hoping that maybe it'd give her a gist of what the others said so that she wouldn't have to read them all.<p>

_**Drake: plez**_

And as she read that one, another message came in and was displayed at the top of her phone for just a moment before it disappeared.

_**Drake: backyard**_

Mindy gave off a confused look, then pulled the covers off of herself, got out of bed, and moved over to the sliding glass door. She opened it, then stepped outside, pulling her robe around her body tighter. And down on the grass, she saw him.

"Hey," Drake said quietly. "What ya doing?"

"Drake? What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed quietly. "It's four in the morning!"

"I would've been here sooner, but I had to walk," he said, expressing his more sense of time. "Can I come up?"

Mindy rolled her eyes, so Drake took that as an okay. He started climbing up a nearby tree, which he was skilled at because of the many times he'd snuck into and out of his own room. He then reached over and grabbed hold of the balcony rails when he was high enough. He placed one foot there, then the other, then he climbed over and stepped onto the balcony.

His lips twitched in a slight smile. "Hey."

"What do you want?" She led him inside, then shut the door.

"I wanted to talk. To apologize."

Mindy sat down on the edge of her bed, then looked up at the boy, who seemed jumpy and off somehow. "Go on."

"I'm really sorry about what I said. And for pushing you. And for being a dick. I really do think of you as a friend, and I would love for us to try again."

"Then why did you say those things? You don't just say that and not mean it."

"When you showed up at my house... God damn it." Drake sat down next to her, then looked down at his lap, where he twiddled his thumbs. "When you came over...I was getting high. But it wasn't weed or Triple C's. I got into it with my dad. He pissed me off, so I threw something at my mirror and broke it. And then I started huffing dust-off, and it's really dangerous. And I didn't really have the can hidden well, so I freaked out and thought you'd see it and figure it out. And I didn't want you to know because I thought you'd tell Josh." Drake's voice got quieter. "I just... Drugs are more of a thing with me than I think you originally thought. And I've been trying to keep that from everyone. And I would really appreciate it if you would keep that between us."

Mindy was shocked by his words. It was rare that she and Drake spoke such honesty towards each other. _Unless..._

"Are you high right now?"

"I'm not really high. Just not exactly sober."

Mindy nodded, then exhaled as she attempted to process all of this new information. "So Josh was right all those times you said he accused you of having a drug problem?"

For the first time that night, Drake made eye contact with her. "Please, don't tell anyone."

"It's none of my business," Mindy said. "You do what you wanna do. But if you ever need help or if you wanna talk, you can come to me."

"So we're good?"

"I guess." She smiled.

Drake sighed with relief, then stood. "So are you gonna go back to sleep or...?"

"That depends. Do you have anything on you?"

Drake smirked and lifted his eyebrow knowingly. "Why?"

"You know why."

"I wanna hear you say it."

Mindy stood with a smile, then moved across the room and slid open the glass door. "Goodnight, Drake."

"Okay, okay." Drake slipped his bookbag off of his back, then unzipped it. He rummaged around for a moment until he came across his pipe and his bag of marijuana.

* * *

><p>Mindy tiredly rested her head on her hand and had her elbow on the patio table. Her eyes were hardly open as the bright sunrise filled the sky. "What are you doing today?"<p>

"I don't know yet," Drake said. "What about you?"

Mindy shrugged.

Drake opened his bookbag then pulled out a green pack of L&M menthol cigarettes. He placed one between his lips, then slipped his hand inside of his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He pressed the button, igniting the flame, and inhaled. When his cigarette was lit, he started to put his lighter away, but was stopped by Mindy.

"Can I have one?"

Drake chuckled as he gave her a cigarette and the lighter. He honestly loved her curiousity and was attracted to her innocence.

Mindy flicked the lighter under the end of the cigarette, then pulled it away after a moment. "Why isn't it working?" she said, still holding the cigarette between her lips.

"You have to breathe in at the same time." Drake let go of a breath of smoke, then watched her to make sure she got it right this time. He took his lighter back when she was finished, then put it back inside his pocket. He took another hit as he stared at the rising sun. "I wish I was on Triple C's right now."

"What? Why? You don't think it's beautiful?"

"No, it is. It's just that... I just..." Drake stopped talking because he didn't want to say it.

"No, tell me."

"No, it's a little embarrassing." The boy smiled shyly as he looked away from her.

"Then definitely tell me."

"You're gonna laugh."

"Probably, but don't hold it against me because I'm high."

Drake chuckled, then said, "Alright."

Mindy smiled, sitting on the edge of her seat.

"So I absolutely love Triple C's. Like, I'm in love with them. I made up this codename for them: Charlie. And I really feel like Charlie is my lover. He makes me happy. When I look at the sunrise, it's beautiful. But he can make it better. Even when I'm having fun, he makes everything funner. And I know I sound fucking crazy referring to a drug as a "_he_." But I feel like he's a male. And he's always there when I need him unlike anyone else."

Mindy was watching him, but he wouldn't make eye contact with her. "That's either the saddest...or the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

Drake spoke quietly. "It's both."

* * *

><p>Mindy opened her eyes, but she was still so exhausted. She let go of a moan as she stretched, then she reached over and repositioned her digital clock so that she could see what time it was. 11:43. Wow, it's so late. She stretched again, then rubbed her eyes.<p>

"Shit."

Mindy slightly jumped at the voice. She sat up and saw that a boy was sitting at her computer. "Drake?" Her voice was strained.

Drake nervously jumped to his feet and whipped around. His eyes were wide open from the meth, and he fidgetted slightly. "Shit, did I wake you?"

"What are you doing here?"

"You fell asleep last night, so I thought I'd just wait for you to..." Drake grabbed his backpack, then started towards the glass door. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm just gonna-"

"No, it's okay. You just surprised me. That's all." She glanced at the computer and saw that she had her math book open. _Aw, he was trying to study._

"Well, now that you're up, let's go." Drake bounced on his toes, anxiously waiting to start the day.

"Go where?"

"I don't know. Anywhere. I'm bored."

Mindy squinted her eyes skeptically at him. His answer came almost before she could finish her question, and he spoke rapidly. "I can't do anything until I have a cup of coffe-"

"Coffee! Great idea! Let's go!" Drake went over to her closet, grabbed a pair of jeans, then picked out a cute, pink tank top, not that he actually took the time to decide. He tossed them at her. "Should I get your underwear, too, or are you gonna get up?"

"No, I got it." Mindy got out of bed.

"Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow?"

She led him to the bathroom that was on the opposite side of the bed as the closet, then she searched one of the drawers until she found an unused one. She handed it to him. "I'm gonna change in the closet. Do not come in there."

He ignored her and squirted toothpaste onto the brush.

Mindy rolled her eyes, then went over to her dresser and grabbed a pair or panties. She went into the closet and closed the door behind her. She tried to change quickly because she felt like Drake would try to sneak a peek at her at any moment. When she was finished, she left the closet. Mindy noticed that she had a text message, so she picked up her phone.

_**Drake: im outside**_

Before she was finished reading, another text came in.

_**Drake: still waitiong**_

Mindy slipped the phone into her pocket, then went into the bathroom. After she relieved herself, she washed her hands. She didn't seem to be in any hurry as she brushed her teeth and hair. When she was finished, she grabbed her purse, then, unlike Drake, exited her room through the door. She noticed on her way downstairs that her dad had already left for work.

Drake paced outside next to her car as he waited for her. He took a hit from his cigarette, then noticed her walking out the door. "God, you take forever."

"You're spelling is terrible," she said.

"Shut up." Drake tossed his cigarette to the side, then got into the car. "So where are we going?"

"Aren't you the one who said we were gonna get coffee?"

"Right! Coffee! Sounds good!"

Mindy looked at him suspiciously for a moment before putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway. "Did you even go to sleep last night?" Mindy asked, curious as to why he was wide awake at four in the morning.

"Nah, I stayed at Rhinestone's."

"Oh, cool. I didn't know you guys were close like that."

"I'm not gay," Drake said firmly.

"I didn't say-"

"You were thinking it."

"No, I wasn't! I just didn't know you guys hung out." Mindy realized that she struck a nerve although she hadn't meant to at all. "So what'd you guys do."

"Um..." He smiled slightly. "I mean..."

"Right. Why did I even ask?"

"Oh, shit," Drake said suddenly.

"What?"

"I forgot I have band practice later today. Dude, I've missed, like, the last two or something. They're gonna be pissed."

"Why haven't you been going?"

Mindy glanced at him when he didn't answer, then remembered the bruises on his face and concluded that he was embarrassed to admit that he'd been beaten up. She couldn't imagine having someone repeatedly hit her while she was stuck on the ground. She pondered if he'd screamed and cried and if he'd felt embarrassed to go home to his father and explain what had happened. He'd said his dad was pissed, but he hadn't said if he was pissed at the bullies for doing it, or if he'd been pissed at Drake for being weak enough to let it happen.

"How are you feeling?" she questioned.

Drake furrowed his brow with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're bruises. They seem like they are just barely starting to heal."

"They're fine."

"Do they still hurt?"

"I'm fine." Drake didn't like to talk about it, especially to Mindy, who was just starting to look up to him. It'd been easy to lie and say he'd been beaten up by kids in the neighborhood, but he still was embarrassed, and he hated having that humiliation displayed on his face for everyone to see.

**_Drive boy, dog boy_**  
><strong><em>Dirty numb angel boy<em>**

Drake patted his pocket when he heard his ringtone

_**In the doorway boy**_  
><em><strong>She was a lipstick boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>She was a beautiful boy<strong>_

He lifted his bottom out of the seat, then looked under himself, but it wasn't there either. After that, he checked in the floor. "Do you have my phone?"

"No." Mindy glanced at the cupholders because that's where she usually placed her phone.

**_And tears boy_**  
><strong><em>And all in your inner space boy<em>**

Drake picked up his bag, then rummaged through it.

_**You had**_  
><em><strong>Hands girl boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>And steel boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>You had<strong>_  
><em><strong>Chemicals boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>I've grown so close to you boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>And you just groan boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>She said come over, come over<strong>_  
><em><strong>She smiled at you<strong>_  
><em><strong>Boy<strong>_

"Damn it," he cursed when his search came up empty. "Come on, Mindy, where is it?"

"I don't have your phone," she laughed.

_**Drive boy, dog boy**_  
><em><strong>Dirty numb angel boy<strong>_

He rechecked his pockets, then looked in the backseat

"Why the hell would it be back there?" Mindy asked.

"Alright, Mindy. You got me. Now give me the phone."

"I swear I don't have it."

_**In the doorway boy**_  
><em><strong>She was a lipstick boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>She was a beautiful boy<strong>_

"What the hell is this song?" she questioned with a furrowed brow.

Drake dumped his bag out onto the floor, then ran his hands through the contents, moving things around.

_**And tears boy**_  
><em><strong>And all in your inner space boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>You had<strong>_  
><em><strong>Hands girl boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>And steel boy<strong>_

"Where the fuck is it?" Drake mumbled./

_**You had**_  
><em><strong>Chemicals boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>I've grown so close to you boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>And you just grown boy<strong>_  
><em><strong>She said come over, come ov-<strong>_

"Hey," Drake said, then, "Sorry, I couldn't find my phone. How are you, man?"

"I'm great. How are things there?"

"Could be better. I mean, I could be sitting lakeside with a lemonade in my hand right now." Drake held the phone against his ear with his shoulder, then started picking up his spilled contents and putting them back inside of his backpack.

"Yeah, it's not as fun without you here." Josh smiled as Walter cannonballed into the lake. "But I'm managing. Anyway, how's the studying going?"

"Ugh. I hate it."

"Well, I believe in you."

Drake rolled his eyes. "Thanks. That means a lot." He decided that he should take this time to organize his bag. He did things like that a lot when he was on meth. So again, he dumped out his bag, earning a furrowed brow from Mindy.

"Anyway, that really isn't why I'm calling. When I saw you on Skype, you had-"

"Josh, it's nothing. Just a couple of assholes from my dad's neighborhood."

"Was it drug-related?"

"What?!" Drake hadn't expected that question at all. "No!"

"Drake, don't lie to me."

"I'm not fucking lying!"

"You're high right now. I can tell by the way you're talking so fast and you keep cutting me off."

"No, I'm not! I've been with Mindy all fucking morning!"

"Then let me talk to her."

Drake angrily passed the phone to the driver, then continued straightening up his things.

"Hi," Mindy said.

"Hey, so Drake _has_ been with you then?" Josh realized, feeling slightly guilty, yet still suspicious.

"Yeah."

"This is kind of a weird question, but does he seem...I don't know...like he's on anything to you?"

Mindy glanced at Drake and saw him sniffle and wipe at his nose. She also saw that he was stuffing away his bag of weed, and the bright yellow Triple C boxes in the floor attracted her attention. "No... Why?"

"I just thought... I don't know. Can I talk to him again?"

Mindy handed Drake the phone back. "He wants to talk to you."

Drake took his cell phone. "You happy?" Then he slammed it closed.

Drake made a snorting sound, then wiped at his nose with aggravation, for it had been running all morning. After that, he continued putting everything back into his backpack. "God, I hate being such a dick to him."

"Then why are you?"

"Because if I don't act like I'm pissed off, he'll know that I was lying."

**_Drive boy, dog boy_**  
><strong><em>Dirty numb angel boy<em>**

Drake looked down at his cell phone and saw that it was Josh. He dismissed the call, then straightened in his seat and zipped his bag. He sniffled. "Anyway, thanks for covering for me. I really didn't expect you to."

Mindy wasn't sure how she felt. She wasn't proud by any means about lying to her boyfriend, but she couldn't get herself to rat Drake out.

"Does he know?" Drake asked. "About your sister, I mean?"

"Yeah, we talked about it once, but..." Mindy shrugged. "I mean, I think about her sometimes, but I hardly knew her, so... Sometimes, I just wonder what she would've been like."

_**Drive boy dog boy**_

"God damn it!" Drake put the phone to his ear. "What?!"

"I don't know who the _fuck_ you think you're talking to, boy, but I want to see your ass at home right now."

"I'm kinda busy," Drake dared to say to his father.

"Excuse me? You want to say that to me again?"

Drake put the phone down for a moment. "Mindy, can you pull over?" He didn't want her to listen to his conversation, and he feared that maybe she'd be able to hear his dad's monstrous voice booming over the line.

"What?" She furrowed her brow.

"Just pull over." He lost his temper when he'd said that because he knew that he was in trouble. He opened the door and hopped out of the car before she came to a complete stop on the side of the road. He unintentionally slammed the door, then he walked a few feet away from the car.

"What do you want?" Drake asked with annoyance.

"I want you to come home. Where the hell have you been all night? Didn't we just talk about this?"

"Why do you have to be such a hard ass?"

"Because I'm your father!"

"Well, excuse me for never wanting to be there so I can get my ass kicked every five fucking minutes! Why do you have to be so pissed off all the time?!"

"Just get your ass home," Martin growled. "And don't make me come find you because you know I will, then I'll show you pissed off." And with that, he hung up.

"Son of a bitch!" Drake furiously flipped his phone closed, then slipped it inside of his pocket. He whipped open the car door, then got inside and closed it.

"Everything okay?" Mindy asked.

"Yeah. I gotta go home after we get some coffee. My dad wants me to do something."

"Okay. That's fine."

But Mindy swore there was more to the story that he was hiding. When she glanced at him, she could see that he was fuming, and she swore that his eyes were watering over slightly. He wiped at his nose again and sniffled, but this time, she wasn't sure that it was just an effect of whatever drug he'd used last night.

Drake suddenly leaned forwards and snatched his bag out of the floor. He opened it, then pulled out a box of Triple C's. He already had the pills torn out of the packages, so he just grabbed the bottle of water that was in his bag. He always carried water and scissors because they come in handy often when you're a Charlie freak. Drake held the box upside-down over his mouth, then chased the pills down his throat with the water, shivering with disgust when he did so.

It was then that Mindy first witnessed the severity of his addiction. Although he'd told her about it just hours before, it hadn't meant anything to her. But seeing it in real life really pulled at her heart strings. She wouldn't tell, of course. But she almost dared to think that maybe she kind of cared about him. _What the hell had Drake's father said to him that made him so upset?!_

* * *

><p>"Thanks for the coffee," Drake said as he stepped out of Dunkin' Donuts, then held the door open for Mindy. He hadn't quite finished his Frappuccino because he knew that he'd just throw it all up anyway<p>

"Well, I figured it was my turn since you bought McDonald's for me last time."

"Anyway, I gotta get going."

"Don't you wanna ride?" Mindy questioned.

"Nah, I'm just gonna walk."

"Are you sure? I mean, you're okay to walk?"

She knew that he'd taken Triple C's about half an hour ago, and she wasn't sure how long it took for them to kick in. Drake seemed to be acting normal now, but she recalled the time she'd seen him stumbling slightly down the street. She didn't want him to step out into traffic or anything.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'll text you later."

* * *

><p>Drake had almost made it home before the nausea hit. He'd just turned into his neighborhood and was luckily off the main road when he leaned against a tree and started vomiting. He hated not being able to keep the pills down because he felt like his high wasn't as intense. He was thankful that there were no passing cars although this wouldn't have been the first time that he'd puked in public. When he was finished, he wiped off his mouth. Triple C's greatly dulled his taste buds, so he just barely tasted the vomit. He didn't like brushing his teeth after throwing up because he'd heard somewhere that the acid rots the enamal. He usually just rinsed his mouth out with water, then garggled mouthwash so his breath didn't smell.<p>

Drake continued his walk home. He knew that it'd been a while, and he hated sucking up to his dad, but he decided to let his father know that he'd at least tried to come home as soon as possible. He pulled out his cell phone, then started typing.

**_Drake: had 2 walk b ther soon_**

But when Drake looked up, he saw his father's truck coming towards him in the distance. "Shit." He stepped onto the grass with dread when Martin pulled up beside him.

"Get in," he commanded.

Drake did as he was told, then he slid his phone into his pocket as Martin pulled into a random driveway and turned the vehicle around.

"I told you not to make me come look for you."

"I texted you to let you know that I had to walk."

"It shouldn't have taken this long. When I tell you to come home, I expect you to do it."

"I was on my way!" Drake said defensively. "I can't fucking fly!"

"Don't give me any lip!" Martin smacked the back of Drake's head repeatedly. "Lying sack of shit!"

"Dad, stop! You're gonna hit the curb!" Drake was getting dizzy, and he wasn't a hundred percent sure if his dad was swerving or if his vision was getting blurry, but he knew his father had an open can of beer in his lap, which was dangerous. When his father stopped hitting him, he slid closer to the door, inching as far away from the angry man as possible

When they pulled into the driveway of Mr. Parker's home, Drake slid out of the truck and slowly started moping towards the house. Martin slammed his door closed after uncranking the car. He took a sip of his beer, then walked up behind Drake. He grabbed a fistful of the boy's hair-

"Ah!"

-then forced him inside. Martin shoved him onto the kitchen floor-

_Smack!_

-then stepped over the threshold and slammed the door closed behind him.

* * *

><p>"Ah!" Drake hissed as he lifted his arm and reached for the can of dust-off, which rested on the floor next to his bed. He took a hit, then rested his head on the pillow and pulled the freezing can under the cover to warm it as he snuggled deeper. His body ached all over, and he had thoughts about calling Julio and telling him that he couldn't come to band practice, but he knew that Ricardo was already on his way over, and he really didn't want to be at his dad's house any longer.<p>

Drake's ears filled with rapid beeping, and it got faster and faster and faster until it was too fast to tell when one beep ended and another began. It sounded like a heart monitor flatlining when one dies, and he always wondered if the beeping he heard every time he hit the can was the sound of his heart stopping. Whatever it was, it only added to the wonderful sensation that he felt, so he loved it.

Breathe Carolina filled his ears. The dust-off seemed to have messed with his hearing a little, for the CD sounded as though it was skipping although it wasn't. And then he suddenly realized that he wasn't able to decipher any of the words they were saying at all. He tried hard to listen and start singing along, but it was as if they weren't even making words. It was all gibberish. The first time that this had ever happened, it'd scared him because it had felt like forever before he was able to understand things again. Julio had been there, and all of a sudden, all Drake had heard him say was, _"Blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah."_ Drake had freaked the fuck out. _"Shit, man, my mind can't process what you're saying,"_ he'd said. Julio had tried again, slower this time, but it was the same thing. It was the craziest thing that had ever happened, and Drake always wondered if Julio had, in fact, been the crazy one. What if Julio had thought that he was actually making words? What if he had actually been saying _"blah blah blah"_ and just hadn't known it?

A squeal erupted when Drake pressed down on the nozzle and inhaled again.

Suddenly, the door opened, and his father stood before him. "Drake, turn that god damn racket... What the hell are you doing?!"

Drake's voice came out unnaturally low-pitched because of the dust-off he'd just inhaled. "**NOTHING**." However, he was too confused to think about hiding the can, so it rested in plain sight in his hand.

Martin snatched the can, then looked at it. "What the hell are you thinking?! HUH?! It says fucking fatal right here!" He pointed at the warning. "Stupid son of a bitch!" He hurled the can at the boy, who shrieked with pain. "Get up!" Mr. Parker yanked the boy to his feet, then shoved him onto the floor. "I oughta tear your ass up! You know you can fucking die from huffing that shit?! Huh?!"

"Since when do you fucking give a shit if I die?!" Drake yelled. He was angry because he was terrified of what his father would do now that he knew.

"Since when don't you?!" Martin shot back.

And Drake swore he heard the sound of disappointment in his voice just then. Martin laid eyes on the boy's backpack, then snatched it up just as the boy tried to reach for it.

"Give it back!"

The man opened it, then dumped out its contents. It was pretty much empty except for a wallet, a guitar pick, a bit of spare change, scissors, a bottle of water, a weed pipe, a bag of marijuana, and two boxes of Triple C's.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"

"Get out of my fucking room!" Drake was scared, but his father was messing with his Triple C's, so he talked back more than usual.

And Martin did, but he took the drugs with him. It wasn't long before Drake heard the toilet flushing, which angered the teen.

"I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

Martin was back in his room almost immediately. He yanked his son up out of the floor, then spun him around and shoved him down again. He already had his belt in his hand, having removed it from the loops of his jeans during his walk from the bathroom. Mr. Parker slung the belt, and the hard metal buckle made contact with the young man's shoulder blade.

"Ahhhh!" Drake screamed. And he yelled again when he was hit. "Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh! Gahhhhh!"

It wouldn't have been so bad had Mr. Parker hit him with the opposite end of the belt. Drake felt bruises forming on top of his older bruises. He slowly started dragging himself across the floor in an attempt to get away from his raging father.

"Gnah!" Martin grunted every time he slung the belt. He didn't care that his arm was getting tired; his son had disrespected him and he wasn't going to fucking have it.

"Ahhhhh! Ow! Ahhhhhh!"

Drake had pulled himself into the corner of his room. He curled up into a ball, for he was now trapped and couldn't move anywhere else. All he could do was wait for his punishment to be over. His voice was sore from screaming, and his body hurt all over. Each blow was worse than the one before it. Part of him regretted saying those words to his father, and although he hated letting his dad win, he swore to himself that he never would say them again.

"Ahhhh! Ahhhh!

Martin was sweating now, and his breathing grew heavy. He was pretty sure he heard Drake sobbing. _Good!_ he thought. _Now that lousy fucker's gonna think twice before putting that shit into his body! What the hell was he thinking anyway?! Stupid piece of shit!_

"Ahhhh! Ahhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!"

It didn't seem like Mr. Parker was going to quit any time soon. How many times had he been hit? Twenty? Forty? It felt like a fucking hundred. Just when he thought the pain couldn't get any worse, the belt would come flying down and prove him wrong. He flinched every time he was hit, and snot started to drip towards his lips. He desperately wished that he still had the can of dust-off so that he could take a long hit and black the fuck out. He prayed for the darkness to take over, but he stayed conscious throughout the viscious beating. He knew he wouldn't be able to take much more. He swore he could hear his battered and frail ribs cracking with each swing of the belt, and he felt his spine shattering into a million tiny piece. All he felt was pain, and he had reached his breaking point.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" Drake shrieked as he lifted his hand to block any other blows coming his way. His fingers trembled, showing his fear.

Without thinking, Martin furiously grabbed the boy's hand and yanked him out of the corner. He swung the belt once more when his son looked up at him with watery eyes and a dripping nose. Drake screeched when he belt buckle collided with his left eye. Mr. Parker glared down at his screaming son. He hadn't meant to hit him that last time. He blamed Drake for it, and it made him even more pissed at the teen.

"Get up!" Martin yanked the boy to his feet, then shoved him against the wall.

"Ahh! Ahhh! Ow, God!"

Martin grabbed his neck, then shoved the boy's head against the hard surface.

"Ah!"

"Look at me!" the man commanded.

Drake could only open one eye, and tears flooded down his face. He hated that he couldn't stop crying, but he did as he was told.

Martin stuck his finger in the boy's face, then growled. "Don't you ever come back into my home high or I swear to God I'm gonna skin you alive. If you thought this was bad, you don't wanna see what else I can do. You hear me, you god damn piece of shit?"

Drake nodded his head, and his voice came out quietly as snot trickled over his lips. "Yes, sir. Ah!" he cried when his head was shoved against the wall again.

"I'm gonna bust your butt so hard that you won't be able to sit down for a week if I find out you're lying to me. And you know me well enough to know that I will fucking do it, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." Drake knew that his dad always carried out his threats no matter how severe.

"Good. Now get out." Martin suddenly yanked the boy past him so that he fell onto the floor.

Drake yelled out with pain, then pushed himself up onto his hands and knees weakly.

"Get out! Now!"

"What? Why-"

"Because you're fucked up right now, and you're not fucking staying here! Get out!" Martin kicked his son from behind. "Get the fuck out!"

Drake crawled towards the door as an attempt to get away from his father's foot. He pushed himself up, then was shoved down again. "Oof!"

Martin grabbed his shirt and snatched him out of the floor, then shoved him down the hall. "Go! I said get out, god damn it!"

"Wait! Ah!" He hit the floor again after tripping over his own feet. Drake started crawling towards the front door in hopes that he'd reach it before his father caught up with him again.

However, Mr. Parker was a lot faster than he was. He jerked the boy up by his hair, then dragged him into the kitchen. He opened the front door, then tossed the young man outside, ignoring Drake's protests. "Don't you dare come back until you're sober, you hear me, bitch?!" And with that, he slammed the door shut.


End file.
